


AsQ

by laughter_now



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mental Breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughter_now/pseuds/laughter_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out as an ordinary day. So ordinary in fact that it took Jim until late in the afternoon to realize that something was horribly wrong. It was unusual that Bones wasn't in Sickbay during a busy shift, but it wasn't unheard of. What was wrong, absolutely and terrifyingly wrong, was that Bones wasn't even on board. In fact, nobody aboard the Enterprise has ever heard of a Leonard McCoy. There is no record of anyone by that name ever serving in Starfleet. In fact, there is no record of him at all. And that is so wrong that Jim can't even find any words for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything associated with the Star Trek franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> First posted on October 5th, 2009 under the title "Askew"

**Askew**  
  
  
Starfleet's promotional holo-vids would never openly admit it, but life on a starship was mostly routine. Even life on the USS Enterprise, despite everything its reputation might say to the contrary. But it was the truth – only a small percentage of the time spent aboard was actually taken up by space battles, chases at warp-speed, fire fights and away missions that ended in adrenaline-laden attempts to escape yet another new hostile species.  
  
The biggest part of life on a starship? That was boring negotiations, duty shifts during which nothing happened, and watching the stars fly by as they sped through empty space at maximum warp. In one word, it was _routine_.  
  
And even the biggest adventurer, even a Captain who normally seemed to attract trouble like a magnet, eventually succumbed to this routine. Even James Tiberius Kirk.  
  
So it was no surprise that the day which marked the most dramatic cut in Jim's life, the day that was going to impact far more on him than the destruction of the USS Kelvin and his father's death all these years ago, started out like nothing but yet another ordinary day. A day stuffed so full of routines that Jim could have gone through it with his eyes closed.  
  
Jim got up at 7:00, rolling out of bed in time with his alarm.  
  
He shaved, brushed his teeth, took a shower, and dressed in a clean uniform.  
  
Then he went to mess hall to get his customary breakfast – one coffee (black, no sugar), two eggs (sunny side up), two slices of toast, no fruit (because Bones wasn't around to nag him about healthy food and vitamins, and how many horrible ways he could die if he ate the wrong stuff).  
  
At 7:45am, Jim arrived at the Bridge and went through gamma shift report. Which was just as boring as the previous day's report had been. And once all officers on duty during alpha shift were at their post and shift change had been completed, Jim sat down in the Captain's chair and went to work yet another routine shift.  
  
He read reports.  
  
He signed off on requests from Engineering.  
  
He watched stars zip by on the main screen, warp travel distorting them into bright yellow lines.  
  
He had Chekov make a ship wide announcement concerning some upgrades Engineering was planning that might influence artificial gravity on D-Deck for an hour.  
  
He read some more reports.  
  
He swiveled in his chair, just because he could.  
  
Finally, seven hours after he had stepped off the turbolift this morning, Jim broke the routine. Giving the conn to Spock, he stood up, straightened his shirt, and went to visit Bones in Medical for a not-quite-routine vaccination the good doctor had finally cornered him into getting.  
  
And that was when Jim started to realize just how wrong everything suddenly was.  
  
Bones wasn't anywhere in sight when Jim stepped through the doors into the main room of Sickbay. And while that in itself wasn't unusual, because Bones was always bustling about somewhere, it was unusual because the doctor had let Jim know in no uncertain terms that if he wasn't in Sickbay for his vaccination shot at 15:00 hours on the dot, he was going to chase Jim down on the Bridge and give him the injection right there, and not in the neck this time.  
  
Jim knew his best friend well enough to know that if struck in the wrong mood, Bones was going to be fully capable of forcing Jim to drop his pants on the bridge in the middle of alpha shift, and getting a vaccination shot into his butt in front of all his senior officers was not a chance Jim was going to take. So after a lot of evading and artful dodging, Jim had admitted defeat and was voluntarily going to get his shot. He would have expected Bones to be waiting for him, hypo in hand and a triumphant grin on his face.  
  
Instead, all Jim saw was a row of empty biobeds and Nurse Chapel, who was entering something into a PADD at her desk.  
  
"Bones?" Jim called into the room, hoping his friend would hear and hurry the hell up to get this over and done with.  
  
The nurse looked up at him, a slight frown on her face, but she got up from her chair and knocked on the closed door to Bones' small office.  
  
"Doctor? The Captain is here for his vaccination."  
  
Jim looked at the closed door in slight confusion. Bones never closed that door, not unless it was one of those times where normal shift rotations didn't matter anymore and he was on duty for so long that he needed to catch and hour or two of sleep in between. But while it was out of the ordinary, one closed office door still wasn't enough to make Jim realize that anything was wrong. Bones was his best friend after all, if there was a particular reason for this secrecy, Jim was going to find out soon enough.  
  
The metaphorical fist in the gut that left absolutely no doubt as to the fact that something was seriously, horribly wrong, was when the office door opened a few seconds after Chapel's knock and M'Benga stepped out.  
  
M'Benga wasn't supposed to be here.  
  
Oh, he was supposed to be on the ship, all right. And Sickbay was his workplace when he was on shift, so _not supposed to be here_ maybe sounded a little harsh. But the operative words here were _on shift_. M'Benga and Bones always were on opposing shifts. When one of them had alpha shift, the other was on duty during beta or gamma. They simply weren't on duty at the same time unless an emergency warranted it. There was no emergency that Jim was aware of – and if the Captain wasn't informed about stuff like that anymore, something was clearly wrong with the chain of command – and Jim knew exactly that Bones was supposed to be on duty this alpha shift. Hell, Bones had all but ordered him to be here, so of course he was supposed to be here as well.  
  
M'Benga however didn't seem to notice anything amiss. Seeing Jim, he waved towards one of the empty biobeds with a smile on his face.  
  
"Ah, Captain. Finally. I already thought I had to come to the Bridge to give you that shot. Just sit down for a second, this won't take any time at all."  
  
Jim looked around the room in confusion, wondering where Bones might be. M'Benga was acting as if he had been expecting him when it was Bones who by all means should have seized that opportunity to stab yet another hypo into Jim's neck.  
  
Not that Jim minded being treated by the other doctor. M'Benga had treated him before, and he was a good doctor. Bones wouldn't have recruited him if he weren't. No, what was absolutely wrong about this was that right here, right now, Bones was supposed to be here, yet M'Benga wasn't acting at all as if he had taken over for his colleague.  
  
If Bones had switched shifts for some reason, surely M'Benga would have said something. And if Bones had called in sick, someone would have notified Jim about it. They better have.  
  
"Captain? Are you all right?"  
  
Jim was startled to find that M'Benga was standing right before him, and he hadn't even noticed the doctor approach. A small frown line appeared between his brows as he watched Jim, but half of his attention seemed to be focused on preparing the hypospray he held in his hands. It was obvious that he wasn't sharing the degree of confusion Jim felt right now. In order to finally get some answers, Jim asked the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"Where's Bones?"  
  
Jim flinched as M'Benga gave a small surprised jerk, releasing the hypo into Jim's neck with a little more force, and quite a bit more sting, than strictly necessary for an injection like this.  
  
"Ouch! What, is Bones giving lessons now on how to make this even more painful?"  
  
M'Benga took a small surprised step back, and that frown line between his brows deepened.  
  
"Who?"  
  
And really, two years into their mission Jim would have thought that everyone knew about his nickname for the doctor, especially the medical personnel. He spent enough time here, after all.  
  
"Bones. Doctor McCoy. He's been after me about this vaccination for days. He was supposed to give me the shot today."  
  
Jim didn't know M'Benga well enough to read what was going through his head from the expression on his face alone, but it didn't take a genius to see the look of utter confusion on the doctor's face. Putting the hypospray down on a tray, M'Benga picked up a tricorder.  
  
"Captain, are you sure you're feeling all right?"  
  
"Yes, of course I am. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Because _I_ have been trying to get you to come down here for your vaccination for nearly a week now. And _I_ made today's appointment with you. If you remember, I told you only yesterday that I had to file an official report to Starfleet if you refused to get your vaccination in time before we arrive at the Nubirian colony."  
  
No, Jim didn't remember. He didn't remember at all, because it hadn't been M'Benga. It had been Bones, all along. Jim remembered the grumping and griping, the _damn it Jim, it's just an injection, you're acting like a baby and not like a starship captain._ He remembered the non-too subtle threats as to where Bones would put the hypo if Jim kept on refusing the necessary injection (threats that had only served to keep Jim's fantasy occupied at night, but that was another story entirely). Never, not once had Jim talked to M'Benga about any of this, and Jim was sure that nobody had threatened him with filing an official report to Starfleet if he didn't comply, either. Bones would never do that. Bones had other means to make Jim comply, other threats that mostly included public embarrassment if Jim remained stubborn. Those worked far better than official threats did, anyway. Most of the things Bones did worked a lot better than if anybody else was going to try the same stuff, and that was something Jim wasn't going to contemplate any further right now.  
  
What mattered was that Jim had an appointment for his vaccination with Bones. Bones had talked him into getting that shot in the first place. So why was M'Benga talking as if they had discussed the matter, and more than once by the sounds of it?  
  
The soft beeping of a tricorder interrupted Jim in his mental ramble, and he non too gently brushed the offending device away. Pushing himself off the biobed, Jim tried to step past M'Benga.  
  
"Where's Bones? I need to talk to him."  
  
A hand clamped around his upper arm, and the infernal tricorder started beeping again as M'Benga started a second attempt at whatever it was he was doing. Jim was getting angry now, angry and also a little worried. It didn't help that M'Benga kept holding him by the arm. Jim didn't like being restrained on a good day, and this was quickly shaping up to be anything but a good day. He brushed off the doctor's arm with more force than necessary, stepping farther away from the bed and looking around Sickbay in the vain hope that Bones was around and he had simply missed him earlier. M'Benga raised his hands as if trying to soothe a frightened animal.  
  
"Captain, you really should sit down. I don't know what happened, but I'd like to examine you more closely."  
  
Jim shook his head. "Not before I talk to Bones."  
  
"Sir, there is nobody by that name here."  
  
Jim shook his head, confusion making way inside of him for a different feeling, something dark and menacing that he couldn't, didn't want to put a name to. Jim forced it down, because there had to be a rational explanation for all this. And if it was somebody's idea of a prank, then there was going to be hell to pay. Because this wasn't funny. At all.  
  
"Stop it! You stop this right now, and that's an order. I want to talk to Doctor McCoy right now."  
  
M'Benga looked unsure, eyes darting to and fro as if he was looking for help.  
  
"Captain, I have no idea who you are talking about."  
  
M'Benga didn't look as if he was joking, but that was the only possibility. He had to be joking, because there was no other rational explanation for the doctor's behavior.  
  
"Doctor Leonard McCoy. You damn well know him! He's my CMO."  
  
M'Benga bit his lip nervously, hand twitching slightly as if he was tempted to raise the tricorder again and continue the examination which Jim had interrupted just moments ago.  
  
"Sir, _I_ am your CMO."  
  
Jim didn't know whether to laugh, or if this was the time when he was going to have to pull rank and threaten dire consequences for the first time. Because while M'Benga was a good doctor, this farce had to end, and right now at that.  
  
Jim just shook his head at him and brushed past the other man towards the nearest communications console. From the corner of his eye he saw Nurse Chapel watch him with wide eyes. And damn it, she couldn't pull this _who are you talking about_ -crap with him, Jim had seen her talk to Bones only yesterday.  
  
Angry now, he slammed his hand down on the console and activated it.  
  
"Computer, locate Doctor Leonard McCoy."  
  
"No crewmember by that name is currently serving aboard the ship. Please specify your inquiry."  
  
Jim's mind was reeling, and his heart was beating fast in his chest. It couldn't be. If this was a prank, it was the most elaborate Jim had ever seen. But they weren't going to get him with it. He knew Bones was aboard the ship, trying to make him believe that he wasn't was simply a ridiculous idea.  
  
"Computer, list current posting of Starfleet officer Lieutenant Commander Leonard H. McCoy, Starfleet identification number 0422-16-09B, authorization code Kirk 77429Alpha."  
  
"Invalid inquiry," the computer politely informed him. "Invalid identification number. There is no record of a Leonard H. McCoy in the database."  
  
Jim took a step back from the console, staring at it as if it was going to make sense if only he stared hard enough.  
  
It wasn't the wrong identification number. Jim knew Bones' Starfleet ID as well as he knew his own, had known it ever since their first year at the Academy. This had to be a mistake.  
  
"Computer, match Starfleet identification number 0422-16-09B, authorization code Kirk 77429Alpha."  
  
"Invalid inquiry. Starfleet identification number is invalid. No entry in the database for this identification number. Please specify your inquiry."  
  
A hand fell heavily onto Jim's shoulder and he spun around, hands automatically going up as if to defend himself. It was M'Benga once more, standing too close for comfort, his face set in a serious expression. What worried Jim even more than the tricorder the doctor was brandishing again were the two security officers standing behind M'Benga. Jim had no idea when the doctor had called them, but they were there, and it was quite obvious that they were watching their Captain carefully.  
  
This whole thing had stopped being funny a while ago, and if it didn't stop soon Jim was going to initiate the first court martials of his career as a Captain.  
  
"Doctor…"  
  
"Captain, I need you to come with me now. You're showing signs of erratic behavior and delusional symptoms. I need to examine you and determine what caused this."  
  
Jim shook his head, taking a step back. He did notice that both security officers were watching his every move attentively, as if he was going to bolt any moment now. But he was still the Captain, and he was most certainly not going to run away aboard his own ship. Squaring his shoulders, Jim looked M'Benga straight in the eyes.  
  
"I'm not going to go anywhere until I've spoken to Doctor McCoy."  
  
M'Benga looked pained, as if Jim's words were confirmation of some dreadful truth he had been trying to deny up until this point.  
  
"Captain, there is no Doctor McCoy here."  
  
"Of course there is! Damn it, I talked to him only yesterday. I know you talked to him yesterday when he came on duty for alpha shift and you handed over from gamma."  
  
The doctor shook his head with a sigh. "I was on alpha shift for the entire week, sir. Ramirez had gamma yesterday, I took over from him. There is no Doctor McCoy, or a Doctor Bones aboard the Enterprise. There never has been. You heard the computer, there isn't a Doctor McCoy in all of Starfleet."  
  
Jim was still shaking his head, even though he knew exactly how pathetic it had to look.  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes," M'Benga said, his voice too soft, the tone too understanding, and altogether too unlike how Bones would have handled a near freak-out by Jim. "I'm telling the truth, Captain. That's why I need you to come with me and let me examine you. We need to find out what's wrong."  
  
Jim would have laughed, if hysterical laughter wouldn't have been the final nail in the coffin that was going to make M'Benga declare him insane and delusional. M'Benga had just told him, and repeatedly at that, that he had never heard of Bones before. There was no record of Leonard McCoy in Starfleet's database. And yet Jim knew it couldn't be. He remembered how he had talked to his best friend in this very room, less than twenty hours ago. Jim knew for a fact that Bones existed. He knew it because for the past five years, he had been the only constant in Jim's life. Jim knew for a fact that Bones existed, because a world without Bones wasn't something he thought he could imagine anymore.  
  
And now that was exactly what M'Benga told him. There was no Bones.  
  
 _Wrong_ didn't even begin to describe it.


	2. Chapter 2

  
**Chapter 2**  
  
  
There was nothing physically wrong with Jim. He had already known that, but M'Benga was only convinced of that fact after half an hour of intense examination. Jim sat patiently and uncharacteristically still during this, clinging to the fact that as soon as the doctor was done, he'd be able to leave and finally try and make some sense of this whole mess. It was hard, though, to just sit there and do and say nothing while M'Benga kept on throwing him looks that said he was worried about the Captain's state of mind.  
  
But Jim kept his mouth shut and didn't mention Bones again, no matter how hard that was. He was going to figure out what was going on, but if M'Benga declared him insane and unfit for duty right now, that was only going to complicate matters even further.  
  
The doctor didn't seem satisfied with the results of his examination, but after a while he seemingly ran out of tests he could still run on Jim. In the end, the results were inconclusive. Nothing was physically wrong with Jim, but M'Benga diagnosed him with stress and vitamin deficiency, gave him a hypospray and took him off duty for a day. It wasn't a sedative and a straightjacket, so Jim wasn't going to complain.  
  
Back in his quarters, he sat down at his computer console and started to try and figure out what the hell was going on. If there was one thing he was sure of, absolutely sure beyond the shadow of a doubt, then it was that Leonard McCoy existed, and should by all rights be here on the Enterprise, where Jim was. It was this certainty that made him look for every possible explanation as to why the world was suddenly upside down. Bones existed. That was a fact. Now Jim only needed to figure out why everybody in Medical seemed to think he was just a figment of Jim's imagination.  
  
Apparently, that became obvious after only a quick superficial search, M'Benga and the crew in Medical weren't the only one to think that there was no Leonard McCoy in this universe.  
The crew list of the USS Enterprise had no listing for a Leonard H. McCoy, or anybody by a similar name.  
  
The same inquiries Jim had already run in Sickbay provided no different results when Jim ran them a second time. No Leonard McCoy aboard Enterprise. No Leonard McCoy listed in any other Starfleet database. Bones wasn't serving on another ship or a Starbase. Bones wasn't a member of Starfleet at all. Bones' Starfleet ID was invalid. There was no member of Starfleet who went by that ID.  
  
One of the advantages of being Captain – and one of the reasons why Jim had worried that M'Benga might declare him mentally unstable and would take away that privilege – was nearly unlimited access. Not to any kind of top secret information, but access to all kinds of databases on Earth. And the more use he made of those, the more that sinking feeling in Jim's gut increased.  
  
Nobody by the name of Leonard McCoy had gotten an MD during the past ten years. Or ever, really.  
  
Nobody by that name had ever been a student of med school, or in fact any university worldwide.  
  
With every database Jim searched that should contain Bones' name but didn't, he got more afraid of entering his friend's name into the next one.  
  
No record of Bones' marriage, or his divorce for that matter.  
  
No college records.  
  
No school records.  
  
No medical records.  
  
No birth certificate.  
  
That was what finally clinched it, what made the sinking feeling in Jim's gut turn into a bout of full-blown panic. There was no Leonard McCoy, even though there should be. Jim was sure his best friend was real, but it seemed as if he had vanished over night. All trace of him had vanished, just as if he had never existed. And Jim couldn't help but wonder why nobody seemed to remember him, yet still Jim himself had vivid memories of the man, memories that were so real Jim was sure that they could not be figments of his imagination.  
  
He had to find out what the hell was going on.  
  
 **  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**  
  
  
Finding Jocelyn McCoy proved difficult, because she wasn't Jocelyn McCoy. Whereas only yesterday Jim had known that Bones' ex-wife had kept her married name even after the divorce because she wanted to keep the same last name as her daughter, right now no Jocelyn McCoy existed. And Jim was eternally glad that he had listened during those few times that Bones had talked about his family and his marriage, because at least it gave him clues as to where he had to search for her without his friend's last name to go by.  
  
Jocelyn Darnell's biography hadn't changed much from the one Jim knew. The same High School in Atlanta that Bones had attended (only that suddenly, Bones was nowhere to be found on the alumni list). It was only after High School that her story changed. Instead of becoming Jocelyn McCoy, the contact number Jim found was under the name of one Jocelyn Treadway.  
  
And apparently, not only was Mrs. Treadway extremely confused by Jim's call, she also had a very different idea of who Jim was talking about when he mentioned her husband.  
  
"Clay? What happened? What does Starfleet want with Clay?"  
  
Oh yeah. Jim had forgotten about that little detail. Looking at her confused expression on the video screen, Jim for the first time asked himself if M'Benga was right, and he was just imaging things. But the thoughts of Bones were just too real for that to be true.  
  
"Not Clay, Ma'am. I'm talking about Leonard McCoy."  
  
Carefully plucked eyebrows rose in unison towards a coiffure that must have cost a fortune. "I'm afraid your information is wrong, Captain Kirk. I don't know anybody by that name, and I'm most certainly not married to them. My husband's name is Clay Treadway."  
  
Jim had expected it. Ever since he had woken up in this nightmare this morning, Jim couldn't have but expected anything else from this call. Nevertheless, it felt like yet another knife in his gut.  
  
"What about Joanna?"  
  
There was a frown on Jocelyn's face that spoke quite clearly of how little patience she had left for Jim and his questions.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Joanna McCoy. Your daughter."  
  
Something flickered in Jocelyn's eyes then, gone too fast for Jim to really determine what it had been. However, when she spoke again, her voice was icy and final.  
  
"Not that it's any of your business, Captain, but I have no daughter by that name. I don't have any children. Your information has to be wrong, or you called the wrong residence. Good day to you, Captain."  
  
As Jocelyn broke the connection and the screen turned dark, Jim sank back into his chair with a sigh of despair. He hadn't even thought about that. The thought of a world without Bones was bad enough, but up until now he hadn't even contemplated the idea that without Bones, there would be no Joanna, either. Jocelyn's life had taken a different path without her marriage to Bones, and Joanna had never been born.  
  
"God, no," Jim whispered to the empty room, running his hands over his face, wishing desperately for Bones' secret stash of Kentucky Bourbon right now.  
 

**  
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

  
  
Bones' parents were still dead, both of them. Just like they should be according to what Bones had told him.  
  
David Andrew and Eleanora McCoy never had a child.  
  
Bones had never been born, and after spending more than two hours going through the medical records of two people he had never met, Jim was absolutely sure that these two had never conceived a child, lost a child or given one up for adoption.  
  
Jim felt like a pervert, or maybe like an insane stalker, digging through details of medical treatment he had no business knowing about. Though he steered clear of anything concerning the death of Bones' father. That particular (drunken) confession was one he and Bones had never talked about again, and Jim didn't want to look and see whether in this reality, things had gone different for his friend's father. Jim didn't want to look for fear that he might discover that without Bones following his father's wish, the older McCoy would have lived. It was a piece of knowledge he could do without.  
  
Besides, he had more urgent problems to deal with. Like finding out why he was suddenly stuck in a world where his best friend didn't exist.  
  
  
 **OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**  
  
  
An alternate reality.  
  
That was Jim's first thought. It would explain everything, and it wasn't even that far-fetched of an idea, considering that from all Jim knew his own reality was an alternate one compared to the one the old Spock originated from. The concept was real, and now Jim only had to figure out why in the world he had ended up in a reality that seemed exactly like his own, just without any trace of his best friend in it.  
  
And – even more importantly – he needed to find out _how_ he had ended up here.  
  
The last time he had been confronted with any kind of space-time-reality travel, it had taken a black hole to cross the borders between realities. Enterprise hadn't encountered any black holes recently, or ever since then actually. Neither in Jim's memory, nor according to the ship's logs. In fact, they had encountered nothing unusual at all since their last mission. Five days ago they had left Kardos II after a week of the most boring diplomatic negotiations Jim had ever been through in his career as a Captain. They had set course for the Nubirian colony they were supposed to drop supplies at directly afterwards, and ever since then had traveled at warp in what had to be the most boring, most routine space flight known to man.  
  
Nothing could explain this. There had been no black holes, no worm holes, no energy fields or foreign scans. Nothing in the ship's logs suggested anything but an ordinary travel at warp. Jim went through all the data and recordings, even the most obscure readings from the Science Station and the detailed Engineering logs that nobody aside from Scotty ever even looked at. And all the facts said one thing: Enterprise had encountered nothing that would explain how Jim had gotten tossed into an alternate reality in which everything was the same save for the existence of one Leonard H. McCoy.  
  
So screw the alternate reality theory.  
  
But there had to be an explanation, and Jim was going to find it. Because one thing became perfectly clear during his research – the more he searched for traces of Bones that should be there but weren't, the more he became aware of the fact that he didn't want to live in a world where his friend didn't exist. He couldn't.  
  
Jim had always prided himself in the fact that he was independent. He didn't need others to survive, he had managed just fine by himself. He had managed without his mother for a large part of his youth. He had managed without Sam after his brother had deserted him, too. From a young age on there had never been someone Jim depended on, and he had always thought that his emotional wellbeing, crippled as it might be, was linked to nobody else.  
  
Not until Bones had come into his life. And Bones hadn't even been a willing part of Jim's life. Especially not at first, after their first meeting on the shuttle on the way to San Francisco. It had taken Jim quit some work to open Bones up to the idea of friendship, and up to this day he had no idea why it had seemed so important to him at the time. But he and Bones had just seemed like two of a kind. Two outsiders who stood out amongst the generic mass of Starfleet recruits, and it had seemed only logical (and wouldn't Spock laugh on the inside if only he knew Jim was thinking _that_ ) that if Jim was getting into contact with any of the recruits, it would have to be the cantankerous MD from Georgia.  
  
Eventually, Bones had caved and had accepted Jim's presence in his life with what turned out to be a grumpy fondness.  
  
Back then Jim hadn't known that this would become the defining friendship of his life.  
  
Maybe he hadn't realized up until now, when Bones was suddenly taken from him without warning or reason, just how defining this friendship was. Just how much he had come to rely on Bones being around, and how much he actually needed the other man. Bones grounded him in ways Jim hadn't even known he needed grounding, and now that Bones was gone Jim felt oddly detached from everything. It was like he had lost a part of himself, and only now that it was gone realized that it had been something vital.  
  
And that didn't even take anything else Jim might be feeling under the surface into account. That was something he wasn't willing to contemplate, and he most certainly wasn't going to act upon it. No matter that Bones was so much more than a best friend to Jim. He wasn't going to get greedy, not when he had something a good as what he had. Jim most certainly wasn't going to sacrifice the friendship of a lifetime just because he couldn't keep his mind out of the gutter where his best friend was concerned.  
  
Jim needed Bones, more than anything. As long as he got him back, nothing else mattered. He vowed never to let anything else matter. But he needed Bones back first.  
  
  
 **OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**  
  
  
Nobody on board remembered Bones.  
  
When Jim went back on duty the next day, to the concerned looks of some members of his crew, he tried to find out. He figured that with on evidence Bones had ever existed, chances weren't good that anybody else would remember him. But he knew he had to try. He owed it to Bones to find out what had happened.  
  
It just didn't make sense. It didn't make sense that Jim had all these vivid memories of him, that there were these all too real feelings surfacing whenever he just thought about his friend, but that nobody else remembered him.  
  
If this was a prank as Jim had initially thought, it was the most elaborate scheme he had ever seen, and it involved falsifying all entries in the computer's databases Jim might search in his quest for Bones. Not to mention that some of those databases required authorization only Spock and Jim had. Also not to mention that even if this was the most elaborate prank ever, what had they done with Bones in order to hide him? Besides, Bones would never participate in something like this. He'd prank Jim without thinking twice about it, but he'd never do anything that would hurt him like this.  
  
Because that's what Jim was – _hurt_. He was hurt about the fact that his best friend wasn't there, but even more so about the fact that nobody aside from him even remembered Bones. As CMO, Bones had saved each of his senior crew's life at one point. And it wasn't just that. Bones had been their friend. Of course he hadn't been cozy with most of them, and those friendships hadn't come close to that between Jim and him, but there had been a mutual respect between them all, one that went beyond the limits of mere camaraderie. Even Spock, despite the often antagonistic attitude Bones showed towards him, had held that kind of grudging respect for Bones, and Jim knew that his best friend had reciprocated that feeling underneath all the crankiness and grumbling.  
  
The thought that all that was gone now, that nobody seemed to remember the capable doctor and reliable human being that was Bones, hurt Jim as much as it made him angry.  
  
And nobody did remember. Jim knew because he tried to find out, despite the weird looks he received.  
  
Of course Jim didn't ask out loud if anybody remembered Leonard McCoy ever being CMO. But he asked questions about injuries he knew his crewmembers had sustained, and tried to find out how they remembered those. The results were shocking.  
  
Sulu did remember the gaping wound in his side he had received during a fight aboard an enemy ship, but in his recounting of the tale it had been M'Benga who had patched him back together on the shuttle ride back, barely saving him before he bled out.  
  
Uhura had a clear recollection of the day when the diagnosis had been made that the reason why she had been feeling sick and feverish for days wasn't the common cold or a flu, but rather a previously unknown parasite that would have liquefied her organs if it hadn't been discovered in time. Of course, in her recollection it had been M'Benga who had made the life-saving diagnosis and had performed the surgery to remove it. Not Bones, even though Jim still remembered it so vividly as if it had only been days ago, and not over a year.  
  
Every crewmember Jim talked to had a similar story to tell, one in which their own medical history remained intact as far as Jim could tell, but once more one in which Bones had never existed. Jim knew that M'Benga was a good doctor, and that none of the healings that were now attributed to him went beyond the scope of his abilities, but still. It wasn't right. And it was unfair that Bones should just be gone without anybody feeling that loss the way Jim did.  
Bones had earned better than that.  
  
  
 **OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**  
  
  
Jim figured he needed an outside opinion. He needed to talk to someone he trusted, someone who knew him well enough to not judge him without listening. For a while, he contemplated talking to Spock, but then he quickly dismissed that thought again. Spock would listen, no doubt. But he was going to find a hundred different perfectly logical reasons why Bones was just a figment of Jim's imagination. No, Spock was not who he wanted to talk about this.  
  
At least, not _this_ Spock.  
  
The old Spock however, that was a different story altogether. By now Jim had learned to separate between the Jim the old Spock had known and his own life, no matter how hard it had been in the beginning. As had Spock. Bu the big advantage was that while Jim and the Spock of his present timeline still were nowhere near the bond the old Spock had claimed they would once have, the older Vulcan still remembered that connection. He would listen to Jim, and he wouldn't judge him.  
  
Besides, he had known the Bones of his own timeline, and if Spock only confirmed to him that a Leonard McCoy had existed in one universe, Jim knew there was still hope left that he was going to get his own Bones back somehow.  
  
But Lady Luck had turned her back on Jim, it seemed. If the best thing in his life just vanishing without a trace hadn't been proof enough, then the fact that when Jim contacted New Vulcan, the Ambassador was involved in some sort of ritual that meant he was going to be stuck in the desert for five more days most certainly was. It figured, that the one time he really needed the old Vulcan's advice, he was unreachable.  
  
So with both Spocks out of the picture, there really was only one person left Jim could possibly talk to.  
  
And if Pike was in the wrong mood, or if Jim had misjudged the man who had more than goaded than drafted him back in Iowa, this call was going to cost him his command more quickly than if he made his search for Bones public knowledge on the Enterprise. It was a high-stakes game, but Jim was desperate enough to try it. Nobody and nothing else had been able to give him any clue as to what was going on. Jim was at his wit's end and was just about ready and willing to try everything.  
  
So he locked himself into his quarters – because this was one conversation he really didn't want to disturbed in – and called up Starfleet switchboard.  
  
It was, Jim had to admit, one of the most embarrassing conversations of Jim's career. The young officer manning the switchboard was polite enough as Jim identified himself and asked for his call to be transferred to the Admirals' offices. It was only when Jim said which particular Admiral he was trying to reach that the problem began.  
  
Apparently, there was no Admiral Pike in this universe. Which was the first change Jim had noticed other than Bones' nonexistence, and despite the fact that the development worried him, he couldn't help but feel a little relieved as well. Especially once the Starfleet receptionist told him that there was record of a _Captain_ Pike that Jim should check in order to see if that was the person he was trying to reach. Jim could make neither head nor tails of the worried and confused frown on the young man's face as he broke off the connection and ended the conversation, but he ignored it and instead pulled up Captain Pike's file. He didn't quite understand why Bones' absence would stop the Captain from getting his promotion to Admiral. But all that didn't matter if he only found a way to contact Pike. Maybe the older man would be even more receptive to Jim's story if he got to know that his own history had been affected by whatever was going on here.  
  
Jim's relief and hopes lasted only until he pulled up Pike's file and immediately saw the bolded remark on top.  
  
 _ **Deceased.**_  
  
Jim's stomach plummeted into previously unknown depths. Pike was dead, had died before he could have been promoted to Admiral, and that made just as little sense as Bones' nonexistence did. Jim's hand was actually shaking a little as he punched in the appropriate commands to pull Pike's medical file up on the screen. That file, too, clearly marked Pike as _deceased_ , and it gave the year of his death as 2258.  
  
The year the Narada had destroyed Vulcan and had nearly done the same to Earth.  
  
Jim's eyes flew over the screen as he tried to absorb as much information as possible. And with every line he read, his stomach dropped another couple of inches.  
  
Pike had been Captain of the Enterprise, just as Jim remembered. And he had been taken hostage by Nero, interrogated and tortured to give up the codes to Earth's planetary defenses. Jim and Spock had returned him to Enterprise, where Pike had died during the surgery which was supposed to remove the slug Nero had used to make Pike reveal the information. According to the file, artificial gravity on the entire ship had gone offline while Pike was in surgery. One slip of the laser scalpel due to something which the surgeon had no control over had cost the Captain his life.  
  
The surgeon, according to the file, had been one Geoffrey M'Benga.  
  
Jim remembered the incident. He remembered how artificial gravity had gone offline as they had tried to escape the black hole created by the red matter, right before they had jettisoned the warp core. Only in Jim's memory, Bones had performed surgery on the then Captain at that time. Pike had been secured to the surgery table, fortunately, but Bones had told Jim later on how glad he had been that his hands had been nowhere near Pike at the sudden lurch during which there had been no gravity. It had been pure luck, Bones had said.  
  
Luck which Pike seemingly didn't have in a reality without Bones.  
  
And as horrible as Pike's death was, it opened up a whole new can or worms – if Pike had died because a different surgeon had had his hands in a different position during a pivotal moment, what about those patients that Bones had saved because of his medical capacity? What about those who would have died if anybody but Leonard McCoy had been treating them? Jim knew that there were plenty of people – humans as well as members of a variety of other species – who were only alive because Bones hadn't given up on them, because Bones had been too stubborn, too insistent or simply too talented to let them die.  
  
It was a dimension to Bones' disappearance from the history books Jim hadn't even considered before, but now he wondered how he could have not seen it. Without Bones, all the patients he had saved over the years, patients who would have been beyond saving had it not been for Bones' specific skill set and devotion to his job, were dead.  
  
Not all patients he had ever treated, not by a long shot. But enough. With just a cursory glance at Enterprise's crew list, Jim could expand the list of people who had never existed or died before their time without Bones by ten more people. Joanna, Pike, and ten crewmembers who had still been alive by the time Jim had gone to bed yesterday. There had to be so many more Jim would find if he only took the time to look close enough. It was a small miracle that all his Senior Officers were still alive, now that Jim thought about it. It was a miracle Jim himself existed, because Bones had pulled him back from the brink more than just once.  
  
It was…it was beyond Jim's imagination. The implications were something he didn't want to contemplate. Too many times the success of a negotiation or treaty, of whether or not an entire planet or a colony was even going to survive, had hung on the hinges of a medical treatment. The political implications of this could be endless, and not only those. If Jim only thought about Bones' adorable daughter, about Pike and about the reliable members of his crew that suddenly were no more, he felt the bile rise in his throat.  
  
This had to stop.  
  
He had to get Bones back. He had no idea how to do it, but he had to get Bones back. This had far more importance now than just his personal and selfish reasons for wanting his best friend back. He wasn't the only one who needed Bones back in his life. For him, it was a matter of the heart, an admittedly very selfish reason to want Bones back. For others, their physical existence depended on whether or not Bones was alive.  
  
And that was even worse than the thought that Bones alone was the only one missing from this reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All information about names and character histories in this chapter comes from either Memory Alpha or Memory Beta, in an attempt to keep it as canonical as possible.
> 
> The story about Pike is based on something that is mentioned in the novel to the Star Trek movie (the audio book of which, read by Zachary Quinto, I can highly recommend). In the novel, at some point after Pike is brought back to the Enterprise, artificial gravity goes offline for a moment. The last time Bones was seen before that was when he took Pike to Sickbay after the rescue. Now, it's never mentioned when exactly Bones starts the surgery on Pike, but I took the liberty to decide that artificial gravity went offline while Pike was already being treated/operated upon. No way to know for sure, but my very own tweaking of the facts the movie and novels have given us. Just to explain where that thought came from, and that it's not that far off canon as far as the novelization goes.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Five days until he could talk to the old Spock. Right now, with everyone aboard his ship living contently in their Bones-less reality, that was the only thing Jim could still look forward to. The one thing that still gave him a measure of hope about whether or not there was a way out of this nightmare. Because one thing Jim knew – here on Enterprise, he wasn't going to find any trace or memory of Bones.

So he did his best to act as if nothing was wrong, to draw no suspicion from his crew, while he bade his time. He couldn't stop himself from searching, though, couldn't give up the hope that he was going to find the one small thing that was going to prove Bones' existence and which would unravel this whole nightmare. He kept looking for something, little signs that might show that Bones was supposed to be here, and that something or someone powerful had taken him and tried to erase all trace of him.

But Jim found nothing.

Bones' favorite dish, the peach cobbler Jim had asked Scotty to add to the replicators' menus early on in their five year mission, was missing.

The dent in Bones' office wall which had been there ever since they had lost three members of the security team in a most gruesome shuttle crash, was gone – just like all medical records of how the CMO had broken eight bones in his right hand putting that dent in the wall.

There was no sign that Bones had ever been on Enterprise, not the slightest trace.

He was never far from Jim's mind, though. It seemed that now that he was physically no longer there, he was all Jim could think about. A psychologist would probably have a field day analyzing those thoughts, but Jim wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Probably not ever. Bones was his friend. The best friend he had ever had. The first real friend he ever had, and Jim wasn't going to jeopardize that. He was too grateful for it, now more than ever. Besides, Bones didn't see him that way, and that was really all to be said about it.

Right now, Jim would gladly settle for having his best friend back, even if that meant he'd be pining for something more forever. He was used to secret pining by now, he could deal with it.  
What he couldn't deal with were the dreams.

Jim was afraid to fall asleep, because every time he did, his dreams were plagued by Bones. He was chasing his friend all over the ship, only catching a glimpse of brown hair and a blue shirt as Bones rounded a corner in the distance. Bones was never running away from him; he was walking calmly along the corridors, but no matter how fast Jim ran, he could never catch up. There was nobody else around, just Jim and Bones' silhouette in the distance. Sometimes an alarm was blaring, the emergency lights flashing as Jim gave chase. But worst was that Bones was calling out for him in those dreams. It was as if Enterprise was empty except for them both, Bones calling for Jim and Jim desperately calling for Bones, but still they were unable to find each other. Jim couldn't find Bones, and he couldn't stop the other man from slipping away.

Those were the nightmares, and they had Jim waking up drenched in cold sweat, panting, and with the sheets tangled around his legs as if he had been running in his sleep, and not only in his dreams.

There were other dreams as well, sometimes following right after the nightmares if Jim was able to fall into a fitful sleep again. Those dreams were different. They were dreams of Bones' hands on him in the darkness, touching and caressing him. Jim felt Bones' touch clearly during those dreams, even if his own hands met only empty air when he tried to reach out for Bones in return. But there was never any doubt that it was Bones with him during those dreams. Jim knew the touch of those hands even without seeing his friend, and it was Bones' voice that panting hotly in his ear, whispering dirty and arousing things to Jim as his breath fanned hotly against Jim's skin.

Those dreams, too, had Jim waking up drenched in sweat and panting, but always so incredibly aroused. They made him feel guilty and empty inside as he reached out and touched himself, trying to keep the sound of Bones' voice in his ear as he came undone.

Between those dreams and the nagging feeling that it all couldn't be true, Jim barely got more than two or three hours of sleep at night. And of course his crew noticed. It wasn't that hard. The rings under his eyes were getting darker and more pronounced with every day that passed. Jim was distracted, erratic and at times lost so deeply in his morose thoughts that he didn't always notice when someone was talking to him. Twice, he was so lost in his thoughts that instead of calling Medical, or M'Benga personally over the communications system, he let Bones' name slip through the open connection. It earned him even more strange glances, and another appointment for more check-ups with M'Benga.

So of course his crew noticed. They didn't say anything openly, but Jim was aware of the surreptitious glances they threw him, and the looks they exchanged behind his back. It wasn't as if he could change anything about it, though. He just couldn't accept that Bones wasn't real and never had been. He wasn't ready to do that, not now and not ever. Jim was willing to give up many things in his life, but Bones was the one thing he was never going to give up on.

So Jim was biding his time until he found someone who would be able to help him, and all he could do in the meantime was hang on to the memories of his friend, keeping them alive and assuring himself over and over again that they were real. Bones was real, no matter how much proof of the opposite was put before him. And Jim just had to hang on and get through the days until he found a way to bring his friend back.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"Captain, Doctor M'Benga asked me to have a word with you."

It was all Jim could do not to roll his eyes at his First Officer's words. That would have only drawn even more attention to the pronounced bags under his eyes. Instead he looked up from the PADD he had been staring at for the past hour and met Spock's gaze.

"Doctor M'Benga has put me through every examination known to man over the past three days, and he didn't find anything wrong with me. He needs to give it a rest."

Spock shifted from one foot to the other, hands folded behind his back as he usually stood, but Jim could have sworn there was a notion of discomfort to the Vulcan's stance. Not that Spock would ever openly admit to it, but Jim knew him well enough by now to read the signs. At least he had chosen to have this conversation in Jim's Ready Room, and not on the Bridge with the entire bridge crew present. He should be thankful for small mercies, Jim guessed.

"The Doctor is worried about you, Captain. As are other members of your crew."

Never Spock though. Because worry was an emotion. No, Spock was only the messenger, because everyone else thought it was convenient to leave the uncomfortable jobs to him. Or because they hoped that he was going to see though Jim's bullshit.

"Spock, I'm fine. Can't you give it a rest as well?"

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Captain, I cannot ignore behavior that could potentially put the crew of this ship into danger…"

"Stop it right there!" Jim put his hands on his desk and pushed himself up, suddenly no longer willing to have Spock look down at him. He didn't like to invoke his authority as a Captain just to make himself heard, but right now Spock had gone more than just a step too far. "I don't like what you're insinuating, Commander."

Spock didn't seem fazed in the least by the sharp tone of Jim's voice.

"It is quite obvious that you are not sleeping. Your behavior while on duty has become inattentive, even erratic at times. And according to the Doctor, you have shown signs of delusional behavior during your first examination three days ago."

"M'Benga has no right discussing my examination results with you!"

"He has if it concerns your ability to commandeer this crew, a regulation you are aware of."

Jim hated that he was getting angry whereas Spock remained his usual, unfazed self, but he simply couldn't help himself. He was too tired, too confused, too worn down by the fact that it had been nearly four days now and he was still not a step closer to finding out what the hell was going on with this screwed-up reality.

"What are you trying to say, Commander?" Jim snarled, emphasizing Spock's title more than strictly necessary. "Are you here to relieve me of my command? What is this, a mutiny under the cover of medical concerns?"

"I have no intention of relieving you of your command at this point, Jim."

Spock put just as much emphasis on Jim's first name as Jim had put on his title. And damn him, for two years Jim had been trying to get his First Officer to lighten up and call him by his first name, and of all times Spock chose to do so now, when he was all but telling Jim he wasn't fit for command anymore.

Just brilliant.

"At this point? Well, thanks for the warning, Commander. I'll sleep with one eye open from now on. Are we done here?"

Spock shook his head.

"I received a call from Starfleet Command earlier this morning. A civilian by the name of Jocelyn Treadway lodged a complaint against you. She said that three days ago at 17:00 hours you called her at her residence and, I quote, 'harassed her with questions of a most private nature'."

If Jim hadn't liked Jocelyn McCoy before for everything that had happened between her and Bones, right now that feeling increased tenfold. Why couldn't that meddling bitch be satisfied with sipping mint juleps at those boring gatherings of Atlanta's high society, and stay out of other people's business? But Spock wasn't finished yet.

"Furthermore, Starfleet Command informed me that later the same day, you were trying to contact Captain Pike. Only, you referred to him as Admiral Pike, and didn't seem aware of he fact that the Captain has been dead for over two years now."

Jim shrugged. "What do you want to hear, Spock? I was looking for something, and as far as I know I'm not obliged to inform you about anything I do as long as it doesn't concern matters of the ship."

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "So you are saying that it was all a misunderstanding?"

"What I'm saying, Spock, is that it's none of your business. I'm doing my job, and as long as you find nothing tangible to hold against me other than a few misplaced calls, there's nothing to discuss."

Spook looked at Jim for a few seconds, and Jim swore he could see the gears spinning in the Vulcan's head.

"Captain, is there anything I should know about?"

Yes. Spock should know about Bones, just like everyone else on this damn ship was supposed to know about Bones. But Jim could hardly say to his First Officer's face, because then Spock would relieve him of command immediately. Probably have him confined to Medical for the foreseeable future, too, and if there was one place on this ship Jim didn't want to be right now, then it was the place where Bones' absence was most glaringly obvious to him.

"As I said, there's nothing to discuss. Dismissed, Commander."

Spock kept looking at Jim for a moment longer, and it was obvious that he didn't believe a word Jim was saying. But eventually, he nodded.

"Of course, Captain. We should reach the Nubirian colony in about an hour."

"Good. Let me know as soon as we enter orbit."

"Of course."

Spock left the Ready Room without another word on the matter, but Jim was very well aware that from now on, he was going to be under close scrutiny by his First Officer. And that meant Uhura and at least half his bridge crew were going to be watching him just as closely.

Two more days until Ambassador Spock was going to come back from his camping trip in the desert. Hopefully he was going to get some answers then. Because Jim wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Jim struggled and fought against Spock's iron grip on his arm as they materialized on the transporter pad. He didn't care what Scotty or any of the other crewmembers had to be thinking. He was the Captain, damn it, and Spock had no fucking right to just drag him away from a diplomatic mission.

Or whatever else a supply run to a remote moon colony could be called. Jim didn't give a damn, right now all he wanted to do was get back down there and make them answer his questions.

Because as pleasant and smiling and frigging harmless they looked, those Nubirians knew something about Bones, and no force in the universe was going to stop Jim from getting some answers out of them. By force if he had to, and all diplomatic sensibilities be damned.

But the thing that was holding him back from just ordering Scotty to beam him down into the colony again was Spock's death grip on his arm and that cursed Vulcan strength which made it possible for his First Officer to just push him off the transporter pad without any effort at all. Two security officers were standing in the background, watching wide-eyed and a little reluctant how their Captain struggled against his First Officer. They weren't taking sides, but Jim knew all it was going to take was one order from Spock and they would.

"Damn it Spock, let go of me!"

"Captain," Spock replied without releasing his grip, his voice infuriatingly calm. "I have to insist that you accompany Doctor M'Benga to Medical for further examination. Your behavior during the meeting with the colony's representatives…"

"I don't give a damn about my behavior! Those bastards know something, they know about Bones. I need to find out what happened to Bones!"

"Captain, I'm afraid that given the current events, I cannot follow that order. I have to insist that you let Doctor M'Benga examine you."

As if on cue, the door to the Transporter Room opened, and M'Benga stepped through, followed by one of the junior medics and a nurse. Jim's eyes immediately latched upon the hypospray in the doctor's hand, and he knew that he had to make Spock understand before M'Benga knocked him out cold. Spock had called ahead to prepare M'Benga for the arrival of what he had termed "a delusional and hysteric Captain", so Jim knew that the doctor's first course of order would be to put Jim under sedation.

That simply couldn't happen.

Not with a piece of news about Bones finally within Jim's reach.

Quickly, Jim spun around and put both his hands on Spock's shoulders, shaking the Vulcan slightly.

"Spock, the Nubirians know something. They said as much to me, you were there! I know that you don't remember Bones, that nobody here on board does, but he's real, and finally there might be a way to find out what happened to him."

Spock looked straight at Jim, and if he didn't know better he'd swear that there was something like sadness in those dark eyes as they regarded him.

"Captain. Jim. I am well aware that ever since your behavior started deteriorating, you have been convinced that a Leonard McCoy should be a member of this crew but isn't. Doctor M'Benga informed me of that when it became obvious that this delusion was affecting your behavior. I can assure you that there is no Leonard McCoy in Starfleet, or aboard this ship. Most of all, the Nubirians in this particular colony haven't had contact with any Starfleet vessels or representatives in over a year. It would be illogical to assume that they have knowledge of the whereabouts of any Starfleet Officer, whether he exists or not."

Jim was shaking his head, still trying to fee his arm from Spock's bruising grip. But Spock didn't let him move away just an inch.

"Jim. You have to listen to me. The Nubirians know nothing. They can't know anything because Leonard McCoy never existed. It is of paramount importance that we find out why you are the only one affected by this strange phenomenon, and we need to find out how to stop it."

"No!"

Jim didn't know if it was even possible, but he wasn't going to let M'Benga and his crew of butchers erase all of his memories about Bones, or convince him that they weren't real.

"That Nubirian leader told me he knows about Bones!"

Jim would never forget that moment, and Spock had been standing right next to him when it happened. Somebody should have told him that Nubirians were telepaths. Not touch-telepaths like your garden-variety Vulcans, but full-blown can read your innermost thoughts whether you want me to or not-telepathy. So it had probably been in the pre-mission report Spock had given before they had beamed down, but a little extra warning would have been welcome.

But Jim had been caught completely unawares when the leader of the colony had stepped forward during the standard meet and greet. The man had simply looked at Jim with a sad expression on his face, his huge slanted eyes wide and incredibly distressed. Jim hadn't felt anything, hadn't even been aware that the small creature was reading his mind.

"I'm sorry for the one you have lost, Captain. The one who left that hole inside your soul." That's what the Nubirian had said, and Spock had been standing right next to him when it had happened. Spock must have heard. So why didn't he understand?

"Nubirians are telepaths, Captain. But they see only what your mind lets them see. You are convinced that you suffered the loss of a crewmember, someone you perceive should be present aboard but whom nobody remembers. That was what the Nubirian leader felt – the loss which you feel and perceive is real. But merely because you are telegraphing the feeling of loss to empathic species does not mean the loss is real. And for the sake of future diplomatic relations with the Nubirians, I cannot let you transport back to the planet and continue this aggressive interrogation that you started."

"But Bones is real! Damn it Spock, I'm not crazy. I know that he is real. He's been my friend for over five years now!"

Spock shook his head, and his grip on Jim's arm tightened perceptibly.

"I can't explain why you are convinced of this, but I did look into the matter myself. As your First Officer, and your friend, I have to ask you to trust me. There has never been a Leonard McCoy. He cannot be found in any database, and he has never been a member of Starfleet."

"Then how did I come aboard in the first place?"

Spock was startled, and this time it didn't take a knowledge of the finer nuances of Vulcan expressions to notice.

"I'm afraid I cannot follow, Captain."

"During that first mission, the day Vulcan was destroyed. I was on academic suspension when the cadets were called to duty after Vulcan's call for help. Bones snuck me aboard the Enterprise, otherwise I wouldn't even have been here…"

The implication that without Bones' actions that day, it might have ended with more than just the destruction of Vulcan felt like a blow to the gut. But Earth was still there, so something else must have happened that had let him stop Nero before it was too late.

"Captain, I don't know what you're talking about."

"How did I get aboard that day, damn it! I was on academic suspension for installing a subroutine in the Kobayashi Maru test, wasn't I?"

One of Spock's eyebrows rose. "Yes, you were on academic suspension. However, Captain Pike deemed it appropriate to defy that suspension. He brought you aboard as tactical officer, and you received a field promotion to First Officer before he left the ship to board the Narada. Had he not died before Enterprise returned to Earth, Captain Pike would have faced disciplinary measures for bringing you aboard while you were on suspension, but he was adamant that you had to be part of this mission."

"No. No, no, no, damn it! That's not how it happened! Bones smuggled me aboard, and Pike was pissed! Bones later said he did it because I was looking so pathetic, and then he injected me with some sort of mud flea virus thing and brought me aboard, and Pike was pissed as hell about it at first. That's how it happened!"

Jim knew that his rambling wasn't making sense to his First Officer, and that with every word he said he was looking more and more like a man who had lost his mind, but he simply couldn't help himself. The words needed to get out, in the vain hope that something he said would trigger anybody's memories. Looking into Spock's impassive face, he knew that he was having no luck.

"Captain, this has gone on long enough. I have to ask you to follow the Doctor to Sickbay now.

"Spock…"

"No. I have to insist you seek medical treatment. We need to find and eliminate the source of your delusions before any irreversible damage to your memory is done. Also, we need to make sure that whatever condition it is you're suffering from, it's not contagious."

"No. Damn it, my memories are real! It's yours that are screwed up. Something took Bones, and then they made everyone forget about him but me. I need to find him!"

Spock closed his eyes for the fragment of a second longer than an ordinary blink, then he nodded at someone behind Jim with what had to count for the Vulcan equivalent of a sigh.

"I'm sorry Jim. But for the sake of this crew and our mission, I have to make sure you get the treatment you need. Doctor, please take the Captain to Sickbay and keep me informed of his status every hour. Make note in the ship's log that, provided that your medical assessment after the examination does not differ, I'm taking the Captain off duty for medical reasons and assume command of the ship for the time being. We'll be setting a course for Earth promptly."

"Now wait a second…"

But the protest died in Jim's throat as he felt the cold business end of a hypospray press into his neck. There was a sharp sting as the medication was injected, and within seconds the world around him turned fuzzy and dark.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

When Jim opened his eyes, it took him only a couple of moments to find out that he was in Sickbay. And the fuzzy and lightheaded feeling in his head left no doubt that he had been sedated. Jim had no idea what had happened, but if there was one constant in his life, then it was that whenever he ended up unconscious in Sickbay, Bones was within calling distance.

"Bones…"

His voice was gravelly, and speaking hurt his throat, but that didn't matter. Jim needed to see Bones. He couldn't quite explain the urgency he felt about this, but he gave in to it nevertheless. It was only natural to do so.

"Bones."

There were steps approaching, but the sound was all wrong. It was the sound of heeled boots, loud in the otherwise still room. A moment later the face of Christine Chapel came into view, slightly blurry around the edges because Jim couldn't keep his eyes open properly no matter how hard he tried.

"Captain, you're awake."

"Bones. …need…Bones. Where's he?"

The nurse's eyes turned sad as she looked down at Jim.

"Doctor M'Benga will be here to examine you again in a moment. I'm sorry about the restraints, but the last time you were awake you were halfway out of Sickbay by the time someone realized. We haven't yet been able to determine what's causing your delusions, and until then the Doctor has ordered you restrained. But I'm sure it won't be necessary for much longer."

She patted Jim's arm as her face vanished from view, and for a second Jim was confused and didn't understand what she was talking about. He couldn't move his hands, but when he looked down, he saw padded restraints holding his arms down on the bed.

Panic flared up immediately. Jim didn't react too well to being restrained or tied up, something Bones would have known. Bones would have never tied him down, he'd much rather have sedated Jim for days on end than leave him conscious and tied to the bed.

Distantly, he heard the monitors above his bed start to beep frantically, then M'Benga's deep voice cut through the sounds. There were hands touching him, and distantly Jim was aware that the doctor was talking to him, but he was too frantic to even listen. He knew he was still calling for Bones, hoping against hope that his friend would appear any moment now and end this horrible torture.

But all that happened was that yet again he felt the pressure of a hypospray against his neck, and the world turned dark once more.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

He wasn't conscious often, or for long. It sucked, and normally Jim would have blown a gasket at how he was treated, but it was hard enough to hold on to consciousness whenever the sedatives wore off.

It wasn't that hard to figure out, really.

One of his last memories was that Spock had said he'd set a course for Earth. It was a four-day travel at maximum warp from their position at the time, and considering that to the crew Jim must seem like a complete lunatic with his ramblings about the CMO nobody remembered, it was a safe bet that Spock and M'Benga had agreed to keep him sedated for most of the time.

Sedated meant that he didn't have to spend too many waking hours in the knowledge that he was tied to his own damn bed. Because apparently, believing that the memories of his best friend were real and not a figment of his imagination made him dangerous.

As soon as this whole mess was sorted out, there were going to be words. Serious words. Maybe a demotion or two, because you didn't just ignore everything your Captain told you, declared him insane, and then tied him down to the bed.

Spock came by regularly. So regularly in fact, that Jim suspected that M'Benga informed him every time Jim's sedatives started to wear off. But other than short inquiries about Jim's general wellbeing and updates on the ship's current status and their approach towards Earth, the Vulcan was very tight-lipped. And damn it, Jim didn't need the Vulcan to inform him about speed of travel, and the remaining distance towards Earth as if he still was the Captain who had any say.

Other people came by, too. Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, even Chekov. But Jim couldn't stand the sad looks in their eyes as they looked down at him, and he'd much rather they just leave him alone. It wasn't good if a crew lost all their respect for their Captain. And seeing him restrained to the bed and sedated out of his mind most certainly wasn't going to increase their respect for him.

At one point, Jim tried to pretend he was sane, or whatever M'Benga and Spock defined as sane. It was a total bust, didn't get the restraints removed, and in the end it made Jim feel guilty for denying Bones' existence, even if he hadn't meant it.

He could only hope that things would look different once they reached Earth.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Yeoman Janice Rand could draw.

Jim had known that for a while already. She had said something about going to art classes during her Academy days once, and during the two years when she had been his private yeoman, Jim had seen her sketch a couple of times.

Nevertheless, Jim was quite surprised when Rand came to visit him during one of his un-sedated periods and offered to draw a picture of Bones. He couldn't explain how she knew about Bones in the first place (okay, so maybe he could. The ship's grapevine was, if anything reliable, and he could imagine that gossip about the Captain losing his mind was all over the ship by now). Jim didn't know what the young yeoman hoped to gain by this, or whether it had even been her own idea. Maybe the doctor and Spock had asked her to be here as some part of a confrontation therapy, in the hope that Jim was going to give up his claim about Bones' existence once he only gave his delusion a face. Jim had no idea, but in all honesty he didn't care right now. He simply couldn't help himself. Rand was a good artist, and the desire to see Bones' face again was too big.

Jim's dreams had stopped as soon as M'Benga started the sedation, and with his lucidity fragile and rare as it was, Jim had more problems recalling Bones' face than he should have after all these years.

So when Rand offered up her skills to draw him, Jim merely nodded at the young woman. She pulled up a chair, pulled out a drawing PADD and asked Jim to describe the man he thought was missing from his crew.

It took nearly two hours, a lot of backtracking and many realizations about details Jim would have never considered important, but which Rand insisted were essential. Jim saw the progress as Rand was drawing, she showed him the picture again and again to ask for details. But when she was finished and held out the PADD to him, Jim still felt the breath catch in his throat.

"Is that him?"

Jim couldn't speak. He silently reached out for the PADD, his vision blurring as he saw the finished picture.

The restraints had been removed by now, on the solemn promise that he wasn't going to try and leave Sickbay on his own or access the computer. Jim knew that M'Benga had also locked Sickbay doors from the inside, but he didn't plan on going anywhere. It wasn't as if he had anywhere to run to, anyway.

Jim didn't answer the yeoman's question, but his reaction must have been answer enough. Jim couldn't even bring himself to care that most probably, Rand had already sent a copy of the image to Spock, who would dutifully put it into his report about the Captain's delusion. He didn't care. Because he was seeing Bones again for the first time in days, with his eyes and not only in his head. The likeness was astounding, down to the small frown line between Bones' eyebrows that made him look as if he was about to launch into a tirade any second now.

Rand had only drawn what Jim told her to, but that picture was all the proof Jim needed. This was Bones, and that face on the PADD belonged to a real, living and breathing human being who by all rights should be here with them now. And he couldn't give up on the hope that he was going to bring him back.

"I'll just leave that with you then, Captain." Rand said and got up from her chair beside the bed. Jim had all but forgotten about the yeoman's presence already, and he wished he hadn't looked up at her words just then. He couldn't even thank her, not when he looked into Rand's face and saw the expression there explain Rand's motivation for drawing and leaving him the picture plain as day.

Pity.

Rand pitied him, and Jim guessed he had probably earned that sentiment if he got misty-eyed over the drawing of a man nobody aside from him remembered. Jim couldn't bring himself to care. He had given up caring about these things the moment he had been relieved of command, tied up and sedated.

He didn't look at Rand again, only heard her steps echo through the room as she left. Instead, he ran his fingers over the surface of the image, gently, as if afraid it was going to vanish just like every other trace of his best friend had vanished from this reality. Jim was reluctant to let go of the picture, but in the end he reached out and put it upright against the jug of water on the bedside table.

It wasn't perfect, but it was the first image of Bones he could see with his own eyes, and not only in his mind. He wasn't going to give up on Bones, even if his resolve had needed some boosting. They could sedate him for all they wanted, but he wasn't going to give up.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Jim wasn't surprised when he woke up and found himself in a strange room. Not really.  
It only meant that they had finally reached Earth, and that Spock and the crew had given up responsibility for their apparently insane Captain to Starfleet Medical. It didn't surprise him either that he had been sedated for the transport.

It hurt. But deep down, Jim had known it was going to happen. And he knew what was going to happen now.

Different doctors.

Psych evaluations.

More examinations and scans.

Doctors who wanted to talk about Bones, and who were going to find some inane explanation as to why Jim imagined his existence. They'd tell him how he was projecting things into the existence of his imaginary friend.

Jim couldn't care less, and that was probably the most scary thing of them all. Jim no longer cared, because it was the same thing he had been through for the past days. And maybe it was better like this, because now at least his crew wasn't going to see him in this state anymore.

But they had taken the picture of Bones.

Jim was sure there was a perfectly sound medical explanation for it, but when he woke up in the Starfleet hospital to find the picture gone, he lost it. The doctors called it an episode. Jim didn't know what to call it, but he knew that those doctors would not rest until they had erased every trace of Bones from his mind, beginning with taking away the only physical image of his friend that Jim had, and he couldn't let that happen.

If he didn't have the picture to hold on to as proof that Bones was real, what was he supposed to hold on to? When that picture was gone, Jim had only wanted to get the hell out of here before they made him forget everything. He really hadn't meant to punch that doctor. But the man had been standing in his way, and that had been a mistake. Trying to stop Jim on his way to finding Bones was a mistake.

But even though it was the doctor's mistake, Jim got punished for it with more injections, more drugs and more confusion as he woke up again.

Maybe they were right. Maybe Bones was just in his head.

Maybe the picture had never even existed.

It was so hard to think over the numbness the drugs had left in his brain. He was nearly sure that Bones was real. But how could it be that everyone else was wrong, and he was right? How had he become the only sane person in a universe full of insanity? And how could he get back to where he belonged, to a place where Bones was as real as he was and everybody knew it?

Jim didn't know, and there was no time to think about it before the doctors drugged him again and the world turned dark.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Oh, Jimmy."

The moment they brought in his mother, Jim knew the doctors were desperate. Not that he hadn't known that already, after days of examinations and talks – and god, those doctors loved to talk – and adjusting medication dosages. They hadn't gotten one step farther, or at least Jim thought they hadn't. It wasn't as if anybody ever told him anything, and wasn't that ironic in the light of how much the doctors wanted him to talk?

Bones was still there, right in his mind. The image was getting fuzzier, and damn it, it would be crystal clear if they only allowed him to have that drawing back, but it was still there. Jim still knew Bones like he knew himself, maybe even better. He knew all the important dates in his friend's biography, remembered the things they had done together, the nights they had spent drinking and talking and just content to be in each other's presence. So what if he had trouble remembering the exactly way of his friend's eyebrow rose when he was getting agitated, or couldn't hear his voice anymore no matter how much he tried to remember.

Bones was still there. They weren't going to take him away. Jim wouldn't let them. Not even if they dragged his mother off of whatever Starbase she was posted at to come and look at her drugged up and insane son.

Jim refused to look, and at the soft and gentle touch to his arm he recoiled, curling in on himself as if to protect himself. His mother hadn't been this affectionate and gentle with him in years, simply because Jim's official diagnosis was slowly but surely forming out to be somewhere in the vicinity of paranoia and delusion was no reason to start now.

"Jimmy, I talked to the doctors. And I talked to Spock, your First Officer."

Jim might be considered a nutcase who remembered people that had never existed, but he wasn't stupid. He knew damn well who his goddamn First Officer was, and no thanks to his mother who hadn't given a damn about any member of his crew until now.

Jim smiled, barely suppressing a chuckle. The vernacular was right, but he'd never get Bones gruff tone down right, no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't hear it in his head, but he could tell that his inner voice was still off.

His mother sighed at his lack of reaction, and Jim could clearly hear the sound of a chair scraping across the tiled hospital floor. She was in his immediate line of vision as she sat down, but the moment Jim saw that sad and pitying smile on her face he looked away, focusing on a point somewhere over her left shoulder instead.

"Oh, Jimmy."

It was getting pretty repetitive. Jim wondered if the doctors had told her to use his name as often as she could. Maybe they were afraid he would forget it otherwise. Who knew, it was hard enough to form a single coherent thought whenever they drugged him up again. But why she was using that hated nickname remained a mystery to him.

"They say you're not cooperating. I can't even imagine what you're going through Jimmy, but you have to let them help you. Otherwise you won't get better."

He didn't want to get better. He wanted to get back to how things were, and that was a huge difference. One not even his own mother understood, apparently.

A hand reached out to touch his cheek in a gesture so affectionate, so motherly and so full of pity that Jim's stomach lurched. He shook his head to dislodge his mother's hand, turned his back to her and curled in on himself again.

His mother wanted him to get better, and he guessed that spoke in her favor. But she wanted him to get better according to what the doctors said. She hadn't even tried to ask Jim for his side of the story. She hadn't tried to understand, and if his own mother couldn't comprehend that Jim had lost something he didn't want to live without, then it was no use trying to make her understand.

Shouldn't a mother of all people know these things? Feel these things?

But then it had always been difficult between them, right from the moment Jim had been born. It wasn't her fault, but it wasn't his either, and that was a revelation Jim had taken a long time to understand. All the world assumed he had father issues, but looking back, it was hard to have issues with something he never had. Which maybe applied to his mother as well.

The room was silent for another few moments, then Winona Kirk sighed once more and the chair scraped over the tiles again as she got up. It took Jim all his self-restraint not to flinch as his mother bent over him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I'll be planetside for another couple of days. I'll come back tomorrow, Jimmy."

Jim didn't care. His mother wasn't going to help him get better, just as the doctors weren't going to help him get better.

Jim didn't know if anything ever would.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"I'm sorry, old friend."

Jim didn't even look up. For days, the thought of talking to Ambassador Spock had been his only hope that maybe, somehow, this whole mess was going to make sense.

But the moment Jim had seen the old Vulcan step into his hospital room, he had known that there was no hope. Spock's face might have been impassive, but everything about him, his posture, that shadow in his gaze, the way his hand stopped mid-movement as he raised his fingers in the Vulcan salute, it all spoke a very clear language.

Spock was here because he had been told Jim needed him. But he couldn't offer any help.

After that first gaze at his First Officer's older counterpart, Jim closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. It was impolite, after all Spock had traveled all the way from New Vulcan to come see him, but Jim couldn't stand to see yet another known face look down at him in pity. And he didn't need to see Spock to hear the old Vulcan's words.

There was no Leonard McCoy in Spock's original reality. There had never been. Spock didn't know who Jim was talking about, and nothing he had ever encountered in his long life could explain why Jim had these memories of a man nobody else knew.

Spock had offered to meld with Jim, to see if he could find out the reason why Jim's memory was so detached from this reality, but Jim's doctors had refused. Not as long as they couldn't be sure it wouldn't cause additional harm.

There was nothing Spock could do for him. He offered to stay for a while, to delay his return to New Vulcan until Jim was doing better, but Jim only shook his head and burrowed deeper into his blanket.

Truth was, he wasn't going to get better.

Bones was gone, and there was no way to bring him back.

He still existed in Jim's mind, but slowly Jim started to believe that was the only place he had ever existed in. He hated to think it, hated himself for thinking it, but maybe it was the truth. The memories were fading, blurring into one another, and with that and the drugs still running through his system, Jim had no way of knowing what was real and what not anymore.

Maybe Bones was just what the doctors said he was. A figment of Jim's imagination. A projection of his desire to have that friendship of a lifetime, someone who backed him up unconditionally and was always there for Jim to fall back on. Someone Jim could give his friendship to unconditionally, because he knew he received the same back in return. And maybe someone who could be even more than that.

By now Jim could no longer deny it, not as vehemently as he had since this whole nightmare began. But it was possible that it all wasn't real. Maybe Bones wasn't real.

It hurt to think that, but Jim had nothing to hold on to anymore. Nothing that would still help him believe.

There was a touch to his arm, and unlike the touch of his own mother it didn't make him shy away.

"Live long, and prosper, old friend."

Jim screwed his eyes shut more tightly and waited until Spock's steps retreated from the room. Once he was sure the old Vulcan was gone, Jim pressed his face into the pillow and screamed. He screamed until his throat felt sore and his mind was blank, until there were hands on him, trying to pull him upright, until someone pressed yet another hypospray against his neck and the world turned dark.

For once, Jim welcomed the darkness.

 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"James T. Kirk."

Jim didn't know the voice, but he didn't bother to look up. People came and went. Doctors, psychiatrists, nurses, orderlies, Starfleet officials.

It was the madman's freak show, and Jim was the main attraction. Who knew, maybe they came by when he slept, too, and watched how the drugged up former Captain of the fleet's flagship drooled on his pillow.

Jim didn't care.

Beeping sounds from the console against the south wall told Jim that whoever had come into his room was accessing his file. Probably to look which inane test they hadn't yet run on him.

"And what do we have here? Delusion, hallucinations, possible paranoid schizophrenia, selective memory loss, violent outbursts, blackouts, episodic loss of control, uncooperative behavior, refusal to participate in therapeutic examinations…my, someone is adding up quite a tally here."

Great, now they sent him the comedians. Jim almost wished for someone to just give him a sedative and be done with it. But of course he didn't get that lucky. Steps approached his bed and stopped somewhere near his feet.

"I see your file is right about the part where it states lack of cooperation. You know, Jim, this would be a lot easier if you'd at least look at me while we talk."

Jim had no intention of doing that. Over the past days, he had been working on proving the theory that the doctors just left him alone if he didn't respond to whatever they were saying. Sometimes, if they thought he was being particularly uncooperative, they just gave him a shot and sent him into blissful oblivion for the night. But apparently, this new doctor or nurse or whatever he was wasn't inclined to give up easily.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, Jim!"

And when exactly had he allowed people to call him Jim? It wasn't that he was big on titles, or that he really cared about what anybody in this damn hospital thought about him or called him by, but so far none of the doctors or nurses had called him by his first name. It felt like a barrier had been broken that Jim had felt quite comfortably hiding behind so far, and he didn't like it.

Fingers nervously started tapping against the bedspread, right next to Jim's feet. Jim could feel himself getting antsy. He just wanted the other man to leave, it wasn't as if a new doctor was going to be able to help him, anyway. Bones wasn't real, but Jim wanted him to be. Needed him to be. And nobody could help him with that.

"I don't have time to stand here all day. Damn it Jim, I'm a doctor, not a statue!"

The voice was wrong. But the words, and the delivery were spot on, and Jim found himself sitting up in his bed so fast that the movement made his head spin. Heart beating fast in his chest, Jim stared at the man who was standing beside his bed.

It wasn't Bones. Of course it wasn't. It couldn't be.

It wasn't a doctor, either, despite his words. He was wearing a command shirt that clearly marked him as a Starfleet Captain, but Jim had never before seen the man. He had short brown hair and was maybe as tall as Jim, and he was watching Jim with a smile on his face that made a shiver run down Jim's spine. The smile looked pleasantly enough at first glance, but there was something to it that made Jim uncomfortable.

"Who are you?"

The man shook his head once, the movement accompanied by a shrug. "See? I knew there was still a brain somewhere in there, even with all the drugs they've been pumping into you, Jim. I hope you don't mind if I call you Jim. I would call you Captain Kirk, but of course right now your captaincy is more of a pending action. Though if you insist…"

"Who are you?" Jim repeated, struggling to sit straighter in his bed. His arms felt weak, and he cursed himself for not eating properly over the past couple of days.

"Me?" The man smiled with a shrug. "Let's say I'm an interested observer. And you gave a lot of material for observation these past couple of days. Though to be honest, I expected you to put up more of a fight. All this succumbing to the drugs and giving up hope, that's not really you."

"Fuck you."

If Jim had expected any reaction from that, he didn't get it. The man merely shrugged once more and stepped around the foot of the bed.

"A little touchy. Well, I can understand. It must be a pretty horrifying thought – one moment you're Starfleet's golden boy, savior of the Earth, yadda, yadda, and the next they lock you up and are about to throw away the key because you have an imaginary best friend. I wonder what Doctor McCoy would think of that."

It felt as if from one moment to the next, all the air had been sucked out of the room, and the only sound Jim could hear was the frantic beating of his heart.

"What did you just say?"

His voice was just as icy as his body felt, but the man didn't show any perceptible reaction to Jim's sudden hostility.

"Now come on. We both know he wouldn't just keep you drugged up and hope for things to get better. It has to suck, not being able to have Starfleet's best doctor examine you. Of course, he'd grumble and gripe about reckless Captains and how they manage to get into trouble even if they don't do anything, but in the end he'd figure out what was wrong and he'd fix it. Too bad he isn't around. Of course, for you Jim, it sucks on so many levels that he's not around that medical concerns are pretty low on your list, but still. Starfleet doesn't know what it has in him, mark my words."

Jim couldn't breathe. He was afraid to blink, scared that all this was an illusion, a sign that he had slipped over the edge and was becoming truly insane. But the man didn't vanish, no matter how long Jim stared at him.

"Who are you?" he finally ground out, voice sounding like he had gargled with needles.

"Who, me?" The man looked around, just as if there might be anybody else in the room Jim could be talking about. It was all a show, a way to drag out the reveal, and it was obvious that the man was enjoying it.

"Who I am is difficult to explain. And to quote Shakespeare, what's in a name?" He took a step closer towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it as if he owned the place.

"But let's not waste our time with quoting poetry. You're right Jim, it's impolite to start a conversation without properly introducing myself."

He stretched out his hand. "Hello James Kirk, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Q."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**  
  
"Hello James Kirk, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Q."  
  
Jim stared at the offered hand, desperately trying to make sense of this turn of events. But it didn't _make_ any sense. Q. Nothing about that made sense. Just moments ago, there had been something in the air that had nearly been tangible, but right now all that had vanished in the face of his confusion.  
  
"Q?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Just Q?"  
  
Jim received a vigorous nod in response, the likes of which one would give a particularly slow kid once it finally grasped a simple concept. Only, Jim felt like the stupid kid who knew he was supposed to get it but simply didn't.  
  
"Is that supposed to tell me something?"  
  
The man – _Q_ – just smiled, as if Jim's words greatly amused him. When it became obvious that Jim had no intention of shaking the offered hand, he withdrew it again and leisurely jumped off the edge of the bed. He started to pace slowly at the foot of the bed, his hands crossed behind his back.  
  
"No, I wouldn't think so. In fact, I know for a fact that you haven't made our acquaintance before."  
  
Something about those words made the hairs in the back of Jim's neck stand up.  
  
" _Our_ acquaintance? What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Now come on Jim. Whatever happened to that infamously brilliant brain of yours if you can't distinguish a simple plural from a singular? But of course, with a week's worth of sedatives in your system, I shouldn't expect you to be up to your usual standards. My apologies."  
  
It had to be the drugs, as unwilling as Jim was to agree with anything the man said. But in this case he had to agree. It had to be the drugs, because this was just too weird to be true.  
  
"So what, you and the rest of the alphabet make a habit out of annoying people?"  
  
"No. And don't believe anybody who tells you differently. In fact Jim, forget about ' _the rest of my peopl_ e'. Some of them would feel insulted at being called ' _people_ ' anyway. No, I'm here out of what you'd probably call personal curiosity."  
  
Jim couldn't entirely suppress a mirthless laugh. "Come and stare at the insane starship Captain. Yeah, you might have to get in line for that. So what do you really want?"  
  
Q unfolded his hands, only to point his outstretched index finger right at Jim.  
  
"You know, you're asking all the right question, Jim. Unfortunately, you seem to be stuck in the wrong conversation."  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
The eye-roll Q gave as an answer was dramatic and completely over-acted, and for the first time since he had been brought here, Jim wished for one of the doctors or a nurse to come in. He wasn't afraid of this Q, whoever he was and what he wanted. But there was something about him that made Jim feel uncomfortable. He had the feeling that this conversation was like a game of chess, and he could only see a small part of the board.  
  
Q, on the other hand, had the appearance of a man who was not only used to this kind of situation, but who seemed to revel in it. The smile on his face never wavered as he pulled up a chair and sat down, making a show out of pulling down his pant legs and straightening the hem of his shirt before he settled down.  
  
"It means I'm here because you made me curious."  
  
"Who, me?"  
  
Q shook his head in a gesture that said _not quite_. "Humanity as a whole, you in particular, take your pick. The main thing is that I'm here, right?"  
  
He spread his arms as if he expected a round of welcoming applause. Jim didn't get it. This whole situation was just too surreal, not to mention that it didn't make a lick of sense. But that went right according to schedule, didn't it? Nothing had really made sense since this nightmare began.  
  
"Humanity made you curious and now you're here. So you're trying to tell me you're not even human."  
  
He definitely looked human enough. And even though it was a thing Jim didn't want to contemplate, they were still in a psych ward. The thought that this guy had just slipped out of a room farther down the corridor was far more likely than that a humanoid looking alien in the uniform of a Starfleet Captain would make his way through the tight security around here.  
  
"You have to admit that it's fascinating. Humans…you're so gullible, so simple, and yet you're so proud at the smallest achievements. And you've caused quite a stir lately, so of course I just had to drop by and take a look for myself."  
  
Jim shook his head. He wasn't in the mood for games like these.  
  
"You know what? That's a really great story, Q. But I think I'll just call a doctor now and have them bring you back to your room."  
  
Jim might have expected protest, or an attempt to stop him from pressing the button that would have the doctors with their trusted hyposprays come running into the room. Instead, Q just shrugged, as if he couldn't care less about what Jim did.  
  
"You just go ahead and do that. If you'd rather they drug you into sweet oblivion again. But then we're going to miss the exciting part of this conversation, Jim."  
  
"Oh yes? And what would that be?"  
  
Q smiled another of those smiles that made Jim uncomfortable.  
  
"The question why _you_ are here. I admit, I like to talk about me as much as the next omnipotent guy, but you Jim, you are the really interesting specimen here."  
  
"Me? I doubt that."  
  
"Oh, don't sell yourself short."  
  
Q got up from the chair. Once more he straightened his uniform and started to pace the room in slow, measured steps.  
  
"You know, as a whole mankind is really boring. Especially if you look at it from the point of view of someone like me, someone who has seen it all. And I mean it _all_ Jim, trust me on that. Anyway. You humans of course see all that differently, I get it. Every small step is a giant leap and all that. Blah, blah. Your species as a whole is pretty selfish and arrogant. You just rush into space, and think that you can tell other species who have been around for so much longer than you how they're supposed to behave. And you're so righteous about it. But trust me that your little forays into deep space aren't even a _blip_ on the radar of galactic importance. An annoyance, definitely. Something that's going to get you into trouble sooner than you might think. But not something of big importance. Sorry, but it's the truth."  
  
Jim really didn't want to play this man's game or grant him the indulgence of giving a grand speech. His hand was still hovering near the button that would call the doctors, but for some inexplicable reason he didn't press it. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was simple boredom, and the feeling that as crazy as this fellow was, he didn't seem to pose a threat. But maybe, just maybe, it was because Jim had the feeling that there was something more to him. Not to what he was saying, because that was a crazy pile of Andorian Bat-shit. But over the years, Jim had learned to trust his gut. And right now, his gut said that there could be no harm in listening to the man's story. Even if it was completely crazy.  
  
And if Q noticed Jim's doubts, he didn't let it on but continued with his speech as if he had rehearsed it.  
  
"But then this _blip_ called mankind turned into a _bang_ , and I thought that warranted a little visit. Who knows how long it would have taken me to finally make acquaintance with the human race had it not been for a certain Romulan called Nero."  
  
Jim swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. "Nero was a madman who destroyed billions of lives. If that piqued your interest, something's not right with you."  
  
"Au contraire, mon ami. Besides, I never said that I agreed with what Nero said or did. Although personally I do think that the importance of Vulcan as a whole is highly overrated. But that's another matter, and completely beside the point. It's not about what Nero did. It's about what he did to you."  
  
Again, Jim had no idea if Q was talking about him personally, or if he meant mankind as a whole. But he couldn't help but feel the tightening of his gut, couldn't help but notice how his hands clenched into fists like they always did when he was reminded of Nero, and what he had done. What he had taken from Jim.  
  
"What about it?" Jim ground out, voice a rough growl.  
  
"Everything!" Q seemed positively excited. "You're like the posterboy for mankind, Jim. Just think about it. All it took was for one Romulan ship and an old Vulcan to get too close to a black hole at the wrong time, and suddenly history as you all know it is gone. Excuse me. History as you all should have known it is gone. And what do you do? You buckle up, you're real troopers about it and you just go on. The fate of your people is irrevocably changed, but you don't even take a break and think about what that could mean. What it should tell you about your role in the greater scheme of things. No, you all just plow on, no consideration, no reflection. Earth was saved, after all, so what's the worry? And whatever could still fall into place fell into place, after all. You ended up on your ship, your crew ended up on your ship. What's to stop you from exploring space, pretending that it's the life you've always been supposed to live, even though were all cheated out of so much."  
  
Jim swallowed, his heart beating fast in his chest. Q wasn't supposed to know that. Nobody was. Of course after what had happened to Vulcan, and nearly to Earth, parts of the story had become public knowledge. But enough had been labeled classified. Nobody knew Nero had come from the future. In the press releases, he had been termed a rogue Romulan with no connection whatsoever to the Empire. And nobody knew about the old Spock, or about the fact that all their lives had become an alternate reality compared to the one it was supposed to be.  
  
There was no way Q could know, not unless his security clearance was as high as Jim's if not even higher.  
  
"How do you know about all this?"  
  
"A little thing called omniscience. A lot of syllables, I know, but then again we both know you've got a brilliant mind, so I'm sure you don't have any problems understanding me. But let's get back to the point, Jim. I was just about to get to the part where it all gets…how would your First Officer put it? Fascinating. So mankind gets screwed out of its natural course of history. And admittedly, it's fascinating to see how that doesn't affect you as a species. But of course, all those people crawling over the planet, they don't even know. They don't know that maybe their lives were supposed to be completely different. And then there's you, Jim."  
  
Jim shook his head. "No. Stop it right there."  
  
It was as if Q hadn't even heard him.  
  
"You're different Jim, because you _know_ how your life would have been without Nero. You know what happened in that alternate timeline – the one in which your father didn't die the day you were born, the one with the happy childhood. The reality in which you got your command through honest work and year-long dedication, and not through chance, circumstances, and the luck that just seems to follow reckless geniuses wherever they go."  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
Q frowned. "I'm just telling it as it is, Jim. You got screwed, there's no other way to say it. And you know that there's a universe in which James Tiberius Kirk's life went down a different path. You still had the same career, but that other Jim's start into life was so much easier. He had so much more to fall back on, to look forward to. He wasn't as damaged as you are. And yet here you are, living your life in that knowledge, and it doesn't bring you to your knees in desperation. Which, I have to admit, from the little I've observed about your species, I wasn't expecting at all. You fascinate me for that very reason, Jim."  
  
It felt like something was clenching his chest together, making it impossible to breathe. Wasn't it enough that for the past two weeks his life had turned into a living nightmare? He really didn't need all the crap from his past dragged up again to mix into his current misery.  
  
"You know nothing about me."  
  
"Again, I have to disagree. I know everything. Every single fact there is to know about your life. Omniscience, or have you already forgotten?"  
  
He stopped his pacing and stepped up to the bed, too close for Jim's liking.  
  
"I know everything about you, Jim. But I didn't understand, not at first. Everyone else would have been crushed by the revelation that their whole life was nothing but a pale shadow of what it could have been. But you weren't. It was exceptional, wouldn't you agree?"  
  
His own breaths sounded harsh and too fast in his ear, and he was clutching the sheets beneath his hands in a white-knuckled grip. Whoever this Q was, Jim only wanted him to stop speaking. He didn't want to hear another word.  
  
"I'm going to call the doctor now."  
  
Q frowned, as if the reaction was both unexpected and completely irrational.  
  
"No, you won't."  
  
"Oh now? Just give me one reason why I shouldn't."  
  
"Well, you can call them of course, but if I were you I wouldn't. Not if you want to know why you're the only one who seems to have any memories of a certain Doctor McCoy left."  
  
It was as if the air had been sucked right out of the room.  
  
"What do you know about Bones?"  
  
Jim was moving without conscious thought, throwing back the blanket and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  
  
" _Omniscience_ , Jim. Really, I'm getting bored of the repetitions. The reason why I'm here with you right now is that I finally understood. I understood that just like all those humans out there who didn't know what they had lost when Nero came through space and time and changed all your destinies, you didn't know what you had lost either. It was nothing but an abstract concept to you, not something you could ever miss. That's why you reacted like all others of your kind and just lived on your life."  
  
"So what? Why do you even care?"  
  
Jim hadn't been standing upright for over a week. His legs buckled slightly as he put weight on them, and he had to clutch the railing of the bed tightly to keep his balance.  
  
"I don't know who you are, or what you want, but shut up right now!"  
  
"Sorry Captain, I'm not part of your chain of command. Neither, as of right now, are you, in case you have forgotten. And that's the most fascinating thing of them all, Jim. One person. Not a tragic life-story, or the knowledge that the universe screwed you over worse than anybody else. No, what it took was one person to put you in your place. To make you understand that no matter how much your own kind might celebrate you as their hero, you're just like everybody else. Selfish. Pathetic. Predictable. Captain James T. Kirk, who braved everything life threw at him –the son of a tragic hero, the one who grew up with the weight of that legacy on his shoulders, the one who saw his home planet nearly getting destroyed – he's reduced to a sobbing, catatonic mess just because his Bones is suddenly gone."  
  
Jim didn't think. He launched himself blindly at Q, hands balled into fists and ready to punch.  
Bones.  
 _  
Q knew about Bones._  
  
And suddenly, with a painful clarity, Jim was sure that this man, Q or whatever he was really called, was involved in whatever had happened to Bones. And after weeks of suffering, thinking he was going insane and his best friend was just a figment of his imagination, Jim didn't want to be rational about this. Rationality could just go and take a long coffee break for all Jim was concerned. Right now, anger and frustration had taken over, and Jim had no desire to control either of them.  
  
Q knew something about Bones, so Q was going to answer his questions. Even if Jim had to beat those answers out of him.  
  
Q didn't make any move to step aside as Jim plummeted into him. With a startled oomph, he collided with his back against the wall, and Jim immediately pressed his forearm over his throat, cutting off his air.  
  
"What do you know about Bones?"  
  
Q only smiled.  
  
"Answer me! You know about him, so you can't tell me that you have no idea what happened to him!"  
  
"Never said that," Q said, his voice low and breathless. "In fact…"  
  
Suddenly Q was gone. Not twisting out of Jim's grasp, or pushing him off. One second he was there, pressed up between Jim and the wall, the next he wasn't.  
  
Jim lost his footing, his balance askew now that the other man was suddenly gone, and collapsed face-first into the wall. And as quickly as the burst of adrenaline had come, it was gone again, leaving Jim too weak to hold himself upright. He slid down the wall until he came to a rest on the floor, panting hard.  
  
As he looked up, Q was perched on the edge of the bed again, head cocked to the side and watching Jim with a smirk on his face. Something was different about him, but it took a moment to register that he was no longer wearing the yellow command shirt he had worn previously. In its stead, he was now wearing the blue uniform of Starfleet scientists and medics.  
  
When he was sure he had Jim's undivided attention, Q's smile widened.  
  
"As I was going to say, I never said I had no idea what happened to your dearest Bones. In fact, I was the one who made him vanish."  
  
Jim had known.  
  
He couldn't say how or why, but somewhere deep down he had known that this strange conversation was slowly but surely driving towards this point. Bones. The one thing Jim had been thinking of without pause for the past two weeks. And the question why he was gone.  
  
Jim had nearly accepted the idea that he was gong crazy, and that Bones had never existed. But then this stranger showed up and dangled the one thing Jim didn't think he could deal with right in front of his eyes – hope.  
  
Jim didn't immediately believe it. He might be desperate and drugged, but he wasn't gullible. But it was a sliver of hope, and before he knew it Jim had latched onto it.  
  
"How? How can you make someone and their entire life just vanish like that?"  
  
"Oh, once you've reached a certain level of omnipotence, it's not that hard. But of course, you want proof. If my little display of spontaneous self-transportation just now wasn't enough for you…"  
  
"Where is Bones?" Jim snapped, scrambling to get back on his feet again. Q remained sitting on the edge of Jim's bed, showing no concern at all at the enraged Captain's approach.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"Right now? Nowhere, Jim. As of this second, Leonard McCoy is nonexistent, in every reality and timeline you can possibly think of."  
  
"Bring him back." Jim demanded. "If what you're saying is true and you made him vanish, then you can bring him back again."  
  
Q smiled. "I could. But where would be the fun in that? You're not going to learn your lesson that way, Jim."  
  
Jim lunged again. There was no finesse, no plan to it. Only the need to strike out, as hard and fast as possible. Jim had been hurting for too long, and at that moment he couldn't think of anything but inflict that pain onto somebody else. It wasn't going to make his own pain go away, he knew that. But maybe it would overshadow it with the satisfaction of giving back just as good as he had received, if only for a few moments.  
  
But as soon as he lunged towards the bed, Q's form vanished in a flash of light, and Jim ended up face down on his own bed. Frustrated, he pushed himself up on his elbows and spun around. Q was standing by the foot of the bed again, arms crossed over his chest and chuckling to himself. He was now clad in an Admiral's dress uniform, face pulled into a serious frown.  
  
"Jim, I would expect a little more control from someone of your…position."  
  
Jim was still breathing harshly, leveling the full force of his glare at the arrogant being in front of him. "What _lesson_? What kind of screwed up idea is that?"  
  
Q shrugged. "A lesson in loss. Maybe, if things go according to plan, one in modesty. One about putting you into your rightful place But above all, it's a lesson about dependency, and what it does to someone like you."  
  
Jim was clenching and unclenching his fists at his side, desperately battling the urge to strike out again.  
  
"What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?"  
  
"You should feel honored, Jim. Not every species manages to attract my attention in the first place. And it is something special if I take such an interest in one particular member of any species, really."  
  
"I don't give a damn about whether or not you think you're the fucking Queen of Sheba. I want to know why you're doing this to me. Why you've done this to Bones."  
  
Q's eyes turned towards the ceiling, and with his hands folded behind his back once more, he started pacing up and down in slow, measured steps. The Admiral that was giving a lecture in front of a room full of curious students, and it seemed like he loved to see himself in that role. Jim didn't want to be hanging onto every word Q said, but he wasn't given any other choice.  
  
This was about Bones. And maybe, just maybe, it was about getting him back.  
  
"You see, I wondered why it didn't affect you to know that you're living the wrong life. The life you weren't supposed to live. And then I realized that for you, it wasn't. For you, it was your life, you had never known anything else. So you didn't feel the loss of your alternate counterpart's existence, even though it might have been so much happier and better than yours. You can't bemoan something you've never known."  
  
Something in Jim's gut tightened almost painfully. Suddenly, he understood. It still didn't make sense, not in any way Jim could comprehend, but it made sense.  
  
"So you decided to take something else from me."  
  
Q nodded. "There. I knew you'd understand."  
  
"I don't understand. I don't understand a damn thing! I'm not some lab-rat you can poke and prod to see how it reacts! For crying out loud, that's an entire life you extinguished, just like that, to see how I'd react! And not only that. You just erased all the people that are alive because of Bones along with him – his daughter, Pike, all the people he ever saved!"  
  
"Not all of them," Q interrupted. "Just the ones that lived exclusively because he saved them when nobody else could have. That number isn't as big. Besides, otherwise I'd have had a really hard time keeping you around, as well."  
  
Jim wanted to throw himself at the bastard again, wanted to punch and pummel him until he undid everything he had done. But the previous two times he had tried had not helped any, and he wasn't stupid enough to try a third time when it was obvious that Q was only stringing him along. Instead, he punched his hand into the mattress, so hard that he felt one of the bedsprings against his knuckles.  
  
"You can't do that! You can't just play God like that and decide who gets to live and who doesn't!"  
  
Q raised an eyebrow. "Quite obviously I can."  
  
"And for what? To show me that it hurts?"  
  
"No Jim. Not at all. It was to see the fate mankind barely escaped. It was to find out what happens when you know what it is that you've lost. When something that you think by all rights belongs to you is taken from you. You only lost one small part of your life, just one person, and it was enough to drive you insane. Just imagine what would have happened to mankind if each and everyone knew exactly and in detail what Nero took from them when he flew his ship into that black hole. If they knew the gains and losses, felt them as if they had really lived that life. It's such a fascinating idea. Humans are really intriguing. You're all so…dependent. And so full of yourselves. You're convinced that you're so strong, but each and every one of your lives is nothing but a precarious stack of dependencies. You take one away, and the whole thing crumbles to the ground."  
  
"This is no game. You can't just fuck with people's lives like that. For what? Just because you want to see how I react? That's insane!"  
  
"No, Jim." Q took a step towards him, both hands raised in a patronizing gesture. "It's a _gift_. An opportunity, Jim! I'm showing you how dependent you humans are. How dependent you make yourselves, and how devastating it can be. Especially for someone like you."  
  
"Me?" Jim wanted to laugh, but it felt as if he had forgotten how. "What's so special about someone like me?"  
  
"For over twenty years, you weren't like that. You didn't depend on others. You drifted through you life with no strings attached at all. And then, suddenly, your emotional wellbeing, your sanity even, depends on whether or not one single person even exists? When not even the detailed knowledge of how much better your life could have been if things had gone slightly different threw you off track in the slightest. You could have been something extraordinary, Jim. But then all of a sudden, there's this one person in your life that you can't do without? Don't you see what that kind of dependency does to you? What a weakness it is? I took away one person and you're this close to be officially declared insane!"  
  
"God, you really don't get humans at all, do you?" Jim couldn't believe his ears. "It's not a weakness to depend on others, to let them into your life. It's a damn good thing, and just because I didn't have that for most of my life doesn't mean I was in any way better off because of it. And what do you expect, huh? You just come here and decide to play God, take away my best friend but leave me all memories of him when nobody else remembers that he ever existed! That doesn't prove anything other than that you're a self-absorbed, arrogant, stupid son of a bitch!"  
  
Q drew a breath to reply, but this time it was Jim who cut him off.  
  
"So tell me, what kind of lesson is this supposed to be? One where I learn that I depend on others? You know what, I wouldn't want to have it any other way. It's what humans do, it's how we work. We depend on others, we look after one another and rely on others doing the same for us. Humans don't function well without relationships to others, and it's most definitely not a weakness."  
  
"Oh no? Really now Jim. And what if that friendship comes in between an important decision? What if you end up between that rock and the hard place, where you have to decide whether you'd rather save your best friend in the whole wide world or say, a planet full of innocent people? What are you going to do then?"  
  
Jim shook his head, hands fisted in his own hair and tearing at it in frustration.  
  
"Why do you insist on judging me for things that haven't even happened yet? Why do you think you know what I'm going to do when it comes down to it?"  
  
Q didn't seem fazed in the slightest, even though Jim thought it was a valid argument.  
  
"Because as soon as McCoy vanished, you couldn't have cared less about what was going to happen to your ship, or your mission. And if I remember correctly you came this close to getting into a physical altercation with a member of another Federation species because you thought they knew something about your imaginary friend's whereabouts. What, you call that rational?"  
  
"No, of course not. But all that happened because _you_ interfered. You screwed with my life, and now you're handing out judgment because I reacted to what you did? Yeah, that's fair."  
  
"Life generally isn't, Jim."  
  
"Yeah. You don't need to tell me. But it's already unfair enough without your meddling. You might have issues with mankind, or with how we handle things, but that doesn't give you the right to become self-righteous about it and go fuck around with my life. I'm not a lab-rat. And neither is Bones. You can't just go around and erase an entire existence and damn the consequences."  
  
"But that's just it, isn't it? _You_ don't give a damn about the consequences either, so don't be a hypocrite."  
  
Q shook his head as if to tear himself out of a train of thought he didn't want to pursue. Distantly, Jim wondered why their shouting hadn't attracted any attention yet. Previously, the doctors and nurses had been always quick to come running in with sedatives at the ready for the slightest disturbance. But now they had been shouting at each other for well over ten minutes and nobody had so much as stuck their head into the room. Jim didn't have the slightest doubt that Q had something to do with that, and that knowledge only served to increase the sinking feeling in his gut.  
  
Q walked a few paces through the room, as if trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke again.  
  
"What if I made you an offer, Jim?" He finally said, turning on his heel to look at Jim again. "What if I offer to do undo all the consequences you say I don't care about. I'll turn everything back the way it was – every single person who owes their life to your Bones will be alive again. Even his precious daughter will be there. And as an added bonus, I'll throw in each and every person he is going to save in the future, as well. They'll all be alive and kicking, so there'll be no consequences. If I do that, according to everything you said, you should jump at the opportunity and grab it."  
  
Jim didn't trust the guy just a little bit, and even without the twinkle in Q's eye he would have known that there was a condition attached to this that he wasn't going to like.  
  
"What's the catch?"  
  
"The catch is that there'll still be no Leonard McCoy. But really, his absence is taken care of, and nobody will suffer from it. I can even make you forget all about him if you want. That sounds fair, doesn't it?"  
  
It didn't sound fair at all. It was still a world without Bones, and over the past two weeks Jim had learned that this wasn't a world he was particularly keen on living in. Even if he wouldn't remember Bones. Maybe that was even worse.  
  
"What's the alternative?"  
  
Q laughed. "Who said there was one? I'm not obliged to give you any choices. But if you insist, how about this?" He spread his arms to gesture around the room. "If you say no to my offer, I'll just leave you to pick it up from here. What's your choice, Jim?"  
  
Jim thought that if his heart was going to beat any faster, it was going to burst right out of his chest.  
  
"You can't do that."  
  
Q's smile was highly amused. "Of course I can. And maybe I will. But that's exactly what I was talking about – it's a weakness, Jim. I offer you to make everything turn out all right, to fulfill your every wish, and yet you refuse. And why? Because my little care package doesn't include the one thing you _really_ want to hang on to. It doesn't include the person you don't want to be without, and if that isn't weakness, then I don't know what is. And that, my dear Jim, is the best example why mankind should not be in space. Why your kind is dangerous, rash and impulsive. Because for you, it's all about your own needs. Your own desires. And if those aren't fulfilled, you start to fight. Battles which you have fought on Earth for thousands of years, and now you carry them into space."  
  
Jim was shaking his head again. Or maybe still, it was impossible to tell. He understood the words Q was telling him, understood their implications and what the being was trying to tell him. He just couldn't grasp it. He tried to, he really did. But it eluded him, time and again.  
"That's your hang up? You get curious about mankind, so you pick me out at random and try to judge my whole species because of a choice I don't want to make?"  
  
"Am I that far off the mark?"  
  
"You have no right to interfere just because you don't understand."  
  
"Oh, I understand perfectly."  
  
"No." Jim snarled. "You don't understand _anything_ , Q. Not a damn thing. How's that for omniscience? You don't understand a damn thing. You just interfere and meddle and think you can pass judgment on me."  
  
"You're stalling Jim. I still need your answer – which will you chose? This life right here, or your perfect little world, just without your best friend in it?"  
  
"Neither." Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest, for the first time in the past weeks feeling some of his old defiance and strength return. "You can't make me chose. You can't just screw up lives just to prove a point. I'm not obliged to justify anything I say or do in front of _you_ , and if you think that's different, then don't take the coward's way to try and prove your point. You wanna judge mankind? Try getting a case first. Watch us. It shouldn't be too hard if you're really as omniscient and omnipotent as you claim to be. And maybe you'll be surprised by what you see. But I won't let you judge me or any other human just because you blindsided me with your little test setup."  
  
"Judge mankind? That's an interesting idea. But you digress, and still haven't given me your answer. You can't refuse to make a choice, Jim."  
  
Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest and schooled his face into his most defiant expression.  
  
"Watch me. You can force whatever you want upon me, apparently I can't stop you. But you can't make me chose."  
  
Q watched Jim for a long time. It were probably only seconds, but it felt like a lifetime to Jim. It was unfair, as immature and childish as it sounded. But it was true. It was simply unfair if an omnipotent being just dropped in and screwed up his life, forcing him to chose from two alternatives when neither of which was acceptable. And this Q had the audacity to accuse mankind of being aggressive and dangerous, when the only one who had shown aggression so far was he who randomly interfered with Jim's life, out of personal curiosity.  
  
"So you refuse to chose."  
  
"Damn right I do."  
  
"What if I tell you that the consequences of you not choosing will be…unpleasant? Far more unpleasant than these past two weeks have been for you."  
  
Jim swallowed against his suddenly dry throat, but didn't falter.  
  
"Then you can't put the blame for that on me. That's your doing alone. But in that case, you might want to reconsider who you accuse of being dangerous and rash. I won't play your stupid little games just because you're bored out of your omniscient mind."  
  
"You're a stubborn one, James Kirk."  
  
"Maybe." Jim shrugged.  
  
"What if I refuse to give in? What if I refuse to put everything back as it was?"  
  
"Then, omniscient and all-powerful or not, I'm going to hunt you down and tear you from limb to limb, and see how your omnipotent ass likes _that_."  
  
And – much to Jim's surprise – Q smiled. Jim wouldn't dare call it a genuine smile, but unlike the more sneaky and more feral grins that had accompanied their conversation, there was a different quality to this smile. It was almost like the smile a teacher would give his favorite student when they grasped a concept that should by all means still be beyond their grasp.  
That smile made Jim more uncomfortable than their entire conversation had, because it gave him the sinking feeling that he had been played all along.  
  
"So rash, so angry. Stubborn and emotional, just like I thought you would be. Very well Jim, have it your way. But keep one thing in mind – a weakness is a weakness. No matter what label you slap on it, deep down you'll always know that one day, it's going to bite you in the ass. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jim. I'm sure it hasn't been the last time."  
  
Jim drew a breath to reply, to say that the last thing he wished for was to ever see Q again, but with a dramatic swoop of his arm, Q snapped his fingers and was gone. Jim stared at the spot where the other man – the other being – had stood only a second ago, his mind still reeling as he tried to understand what was happening. But before he could form a single coherent thought, the door to his room burst open and a doctor as well as an orderly came bursting through.  
  
Jim struggled and put up a fight, but the orderly had his arms pinned to his sides before he could do anything about it. There was the by now well-known pressure of a hypospray against his neck, the sting of the injection, and then everything turned dark.  
  
Jim fell into the darkness with the distinct feeling that Q hadn't been telling him anything true about the true motivations behind all this. But it didn't matter, because he was still stuck in the psych ward, in a world without Bones that just didn't make sense.  
So probably, it was for the best to let the darkness take him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**  
  
  
It was a nightmare. That was the only way to describe it. A never-ending nightmare Jim was trapped in, and every time he woke up to this insanity, it was going to feel like losing Bones all over again.  
  
Why should he even bother?  
  
If some being, some omnipotent asshole like this Q, could just drop into his life without warning and take away the one person who really mattered in Jim's life, how could he stand up against that? Jim never gave in without a fight, but it was one thing to fight against a visible enemy, and another thing entirely to stand his ground against someone who wasn't even tangible. It was impossible, that's what it was.  
  
So maybe there was such a thing as a no-win scenario after all.  
  
Maybe his whole life had been a test designed just to prove to him that there was. His very own fucking Kobayashi Maru, designed for the sole purpose of putting Jim in his place. How and why, he didn't know. And to be completely honest, he didn't care anymore.  
  
Caring only got you into trouble. Caring was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He had cared about Bones, and then Bones had been taken from him and it was breaking him, over and over again. So maybe he should just stop caring.  
  
Only, he couldn't. It was a physical impossibility for Jim to not care about Bones anymore. Jim couldn't have stopped caring about Bones if his life – or as it was, his sanity – depended on it. And maybe that was his downfall. Who would have thought that in the end it wasn't going to be a Klingon Bird of Prey, an enemy phaser, or an act of sacrifice in order to save his crew.  
  
No, James T. Kirk's downfall was love.  
  
It was ironic, come to think of it. People had often told him that he was only alive because his father's love had been strong enough for him to make the ultimate sacrifice. Jim was alive because of it. And now love was going to be the reason why Jim gave himself up.  
  
It should be ironic, but it wasn't. Jim was too hung up on the fact that he had finally said it, or at least thought it. And the world hadn't come to an end. Of course not. It was a simple fact, one that seemed so easy and obvious that Jim asked himself why he hadn't admitted it to himself earlier, while there had still been time.  
  
He loved Bones.  
  
Had probably always loved him in one way or another. Not always like this, though, in this…romantic way one might call it if there was the absolute need to find a word for something that defied description. But ever since it had become obvious that unlike everybody else, Bones wasn't merely tolerating Jim in his life, ever since their friendship had begun to grow and it had become obvious that it was something unconditional, unlike any other friendship he had experienced before, Jim had been falling. Falling for the other man, falling headfirst into something he could neither predict nor control, falling out of his comfort zone. And he had only noticed that he was falling by the time he had crashed to the ground, and hard.  
  
And only now that Bones had been taken away did Jim realize just how deep it all ran, and how definitely over it was now. He'd never get the chance to figure out if there had been any chance for them, because Bones was gone.  
  
Jim hated being left behind, and he hated the pain of loss that seemed to have become a permanent fixture in his life. His father, his mother, now Bones…Jim didn't know if he had it left in him to compensate for yet another loss in his life. The pain was bad, and he felt like he didn't have enough strength left to ever make it go away.  
  
So really, the darkness was better than having to face all of this. He could just drift through it and pretend that it all wasn't real. Maybe he wasn't real either, who knew? It would definitely be so much easier.  
  
But even as he thought that, he felt awareness tugging at him and knew that he was passing through those blissful moments between sleep and waking. Normally Jim never remembered his dreams, not even the nightmares, and when he woke up, it was from one moment to the next. He had always been restless, and it was as if his body knew that and didn't waste time or energy on a lengthy process of waking up.  
  
When Jim was drugged though, sedated or under anesthesia, it always took far too long until he passed that sluggish phase of being neither here nor there. Jim hated these moments, hated how vulnerable they made him. Bones knew that. Had known that. Whatever. Bones had known, and that was the reason why he had always tried to be there when Jim woke up from sedation, to coax him through the dizziness and disorientation. Bones had always been his anchor, and only now Jim realized just how much he needed the other man.  
  
But again, today like all those days before, he was going to wake up to a world without Bones.  
  
Jim didn't want to wake up.  
  
Waking up meant losing Bones again.  
  
But Jim couldn't stop it, just as little as he had been able to stop anything else that had happened over the past weeks. And even before he blinked tiredly for the first time, Jim heard the beeping of medical equipment in the background, smelled that disgusting whiff of antiseptic which he had always liked when he had still connected it to Bones, and not to faceless doctors who looked at him with pity in their eyes right before they sedated him. The room was bright, too bright for his eyes, and with a groan Jim raised his arm to shield them, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. The movement hurt, but Jim didn't pay any real mind to it. He was always hurting when he woke up after he struggled against being sedated.  
  
At least he wasn't restrained this time.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Jim knew the voice, but couldn't have said which of the faceless nurses and doctors who had treated him over the past weeks it belonged to. A woman, but that didn't have to mean anything.  
  
"Captain, you're supposed to lie still."  
  
He was lying still, damn it. His brain was only half there, Jim seriously doubted that the parts responsible for movement were completely awake yet. Besides, they had never been so worried about him moving around before. They simply tied him up when they wanted him to be still.  
  
"Leave me alone," Jim slurred out, but even to his own ears it sounded barely understandable.  
  
"You can sleep some more once the doctor has taken a look at you. But I need you to put your arm down and lie still now."  
  
Jim didn't want to be examined again by yet another doctor who wouldn't be able to help him anyway. But before Jim could think about how to voice that thought, the nurse's hand clamped around his wrist in a vise-like grip and she tried to pull his arm back down to his side. It hurt, worse than lifting it up had. But it wasn't the pain that set Jim off. Pain he could deal with. It was the tight grip around his wrist that short-circuited Jim's ability for rational thought.  
  
Not again. They couldn't tie him down again.  
  
Normally, Jim would have no problems fighting off a female nurse, but right now he couldn't break her grip on his wrist, no matter how much he tried.  
  
"Sir, the doctor said you have to lie still."  
  
Jim heard the words, but they didn't process in his brain. All that Jim could think of was that the hand holding him down, and the second hand was reaching for his other wrist to press him down into the mattress. There was a second voice, a man's voice this time, talking on the other side of the bed, but Jim didn't listen. He struggled, tried to tear his arms free of the iron grip that held them. He wanted to scream and yell, but his tongue was heavy in his mouth and the sounds he produced were barely more than panicked grunts.  
  
"Captain, you have to calm down."  
  
Jim was tossing his entire body from one side to the next, as hard as he could in his weakened state. Anything to make them go away, to stop them from tying him up while he awake to witness it.  
  
"Doctor! We need some help in here!"  
  
Jim only heard the word doctor, and knew that soon it was going to be over. Soon he was going to be sedated again and then at least he could sleep. Maybe, if he only struggled as hard as he could, they were going to sedate him for longer this time. Who knew, there was always the slim chance that the dosage was going to be too high, and then it would all be over.  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
Steps came running towards his bed, and Jim only waited for the sting of the hypospray against his neck. But it didn't come. Instead, that last voice spoke again, growling out an angry command.  
  
"Get your hands off him! Who the hell told you to restrain him? Let go!"  
  
The hands might have let go of him then, Jim didn't notice. He kept struggling weakly, trying to get away from everyone and everything even though he knew he had nowhere to go. Something was different, but he was still too frantic to form a single coherent thought.  
  
"Jim!"  
  
Again, there were hands on him, but this time they were framing his face. And that was so startling, so unexpected, that Jim froze.  
  
"Good. Nurse Peters was right, you need to calm down. Now open your eyes. Come on, think you can do that?"  
  
Of course Jim could do it. He wasn't an imbecile, even if he was confused as hell. But nobody was trying to hold him down anymore, and that at least was something. The least he could do in return was give in an agree to open his eyes. The room was still too bright, and as he blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the brightness, the face in front of him came into clearer view.  
  
Jim froze.  
  
It couldn't be. Rationally, Jim knew that it couldn't be, but that didn't change the fact that no matter how often he blinked, the image didn't change.  
 _  
Bones._  
  
It was Bones' worried face that was hovering only inches away from his own, Bones' hazel eyes that were boring into Jim's in an attempt to catch and hold his gaze – an attempt to ground him, just like Bones always did. His voice was soothing, as if Jim was a spooked animal he was trying to soothe. It was so unlike Bones' normal bedside manner that Jim started to wonder if he wasn't imagining everything, after all.  
  
"Jim, I need you to calm down. We can't have your heart rate going up right now, okay?"  
  
It couldn't be. Bones was gone. Q had taken him away, and it had been real. The pain had been real, the disbelief, the hospital, the injections…  
  
"Jim, are you with me?"  
  
But Bones was here, right there in front of Jim. He seemed real. The touch of his hands against Jim's face felt real – warm and gentle, yet firm at the same time. Jim couldn't help but lean into the touch, even if it was just a dream or an illusion. He wasn't above taking whatever he could get.  
  
"Jim, answer me, damn it."  
  
"Bones."  
  
Jim wanted for it to sound affirmative, relieved, but it came out as a weak question. The fingers against his face tightened their hold slightly and Bones nodded his head, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Yeah. Who else would be pulling a double shift because you decide it's time for an involuntary nap?"  
  
"Bones…"  
  
It was ridiculous how Jim was reduced to that one syllable, but it was all he could think of, all he could see, feel, or think. _Bones_. It was too good to be true, and the illusion was so realistic. Bones' fingers tightened against Jim's face, and when he spoke again there was a worried undertone in his voice.  
  
"Jim, do you know where you are?"  
  
Sickbay.  
  
If Bones was here, he was back in Sickbay, and not in a psych ward at Starfleet Medical on Earth. It was…Jim didn't understand it, it was all too much, and the only thing he really wanted to think about right now was that Bones was here, with him. He didn't know how or why, but Bones was there. And even if this was some drug-induced hallucination, Jim was unable to let go.  
  
He was sitting up on the biobed, with Bones hovering right next to him, and suddenly it was no longer enough that Bones still held Jim's face in his hands. With an exhausted sigh, Jim let his head drop forward against Bones' chest. Bones was solid and warm against him, and with both hands Jim desperately reached for the blue uniform shirt, grabbing the fabric tightly in his fists.  
  
Jim tried to hold on to his composure, he really did. But it was all too much, it simply felt too real, and he couldn't stop the pathetic, choked sob from escaping. He felt Bones stiffen under him at the sound, hands moving to Jim's shoulders and squeezing gently.  
  
"Jim?"  
  
Jim wanted to say something, he really did. But it seemed all he could do was shake his head against Bones' chest while he struggled to keep another sob from escaping. All this was already embarrassing enough, he didn't need to further add to the embarrassment by sobbing into Bones' shoulder like a little kid.  
  
Jim felt Bones' chest expand as he drew breath to say something, but at that moment there were steps coming towards the bed. Jim couldn't help it, he flinched at the sound of the approaching footsteps. Bones squeezed his shoulders again, and Jim felt him turn around towards the intruder.  
  
"Christine, get out. Now."  
  
There was no response, but Jim clearly heard the sound of the privacy screen being pulled closed before the nurse's steps retreated again. Jim hoped Nurse Chapel wasn't going to take the way Bones had snapped at her personally, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not really. Jim was only grateful that Bones sensed that the last thing Jim needed was to have spectators staring at him in this state. Not right now, when he was confused enough by everything that was going on and barely able to think beyond the fact that Bones was here.  
  
Bones was moving as he sat down on the edge of the biobed, a movement Jim used to pull even closer to the other man. Until now, Bones' hands had been resting loosely against his shoulders, but the gentle pressure eased, and a moment later Jim heard the soft beeping of the tricorder as Bones ran it over him.  
  
"You with me, Jim?"  
  
Jim nodded against Bones' chest, but didn't trust his voice enough to speak just yet. But apparently, it was enough of an answer for Bones. For now, at least.  
  
"Good." The tricorder stopped its beeping, and after a few more seconds Bones' hand settled against the back of Jim's head, a warm weight that was keeping him in place and calmed Jim more than he wanted to admit.  
  
"What's the last thing you remember?"  
  
Trust Bones to start with the easy questions. Only in this case, there probably wasn't a single question Jim was more ill-equipped to answer than this one. He remembered a lot of things, contradicting things, and he didn't know what to believe and what not anymore. His last memories were of the hospital, and Q, and before that there were those horrible days when he had been sedated and tied to a bed right here in this room. But Bones had been gone then, and he was here now. So maybe all that hadn't happened.  
  
Jim thought it was safest to start with the moment when things had started to go so terrifyingly wrong.  
  
"Vaccination. M'Benga…he gave me the injection."  
  
Bones nodded again, his hand never moving away from the back of Jim's head.  
  
"Yeah. I was treating someone else, and Geoffrey was setting up an experiment in the lab, so I asked him to give you your shot. Anything after that?"  
  
Jim shook his head, still refusing to look up. "No. What happened?"  
  
"Well, you had the mother of all allergic reactions, that's what happened. Damn it Jim, it was just an ordinary vaccine, and you dropped as if you had been poisoned."  
  
That didn't sound right. It hadn't happened. Jim didn't remember that it had happened, and it didn't help him any to make sense of the confused mess in his head. He was surprised that Bones allowed him to cling like that. This wasn't them. They weren't affectionate like that, and other than the occasional pat on the shoulder they didn't hug, or touch excessively. But now Bones let Jim cling, as if he knew that Jim needed this right now.  
  
"You went into cardiac arrest not even a minute after the injection. It took a while and some pretty hard medications to bring you back. Which is one of the reasons why you shouldn't move too much, by the way. There's inflammation from one of the hypos that spreads down your left side, and it'll probably hurt to move for a while. But I guess compared to being dead, that's a fair price to pay."  
  
Jim nodded, but still made no move to let go, or to even look at Bones and see the reaction to his behavior reflected in his friend's eyes.  
  
"Also, while I'm going to have words with her about trying to restrain you earlier, Nurse Peters was right. We can't let your heart rate go up right now. The last time it went over 80, you nearly went into cardiac arrest again."  
  
"Okay." Jim rasped out, unusually compliant.  
  
"You've been out for the past five hours. I'm going to keep you in Medical overnight for observation. In addition to that, I'm taking you off duty for two days after that, just to make sure, and you're not going down to the Nubirian colony once we arrive. I don't know if, besides wreaking havoc on your immune system, the vaccine actually did its job, and with an outbreak of Tellarian Fever in the colony I'm not going to find out by trial and error. So Spock will have to go on that mission on his own, since he didn't nearly die from his vaccination."  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
Bones fell silent, and Jim could feel him tense. No small wonder, after all Jim was still clinging to him in a way that was just atypical for him. The questions were bound to start sooner rather than later.  
  
"Jim, look at me."  
  
Jim wanted to shake his head. He wanted nothing more than to stay like this for a little while longer, because he wasn't yet entirely sure that this wasn't an illusion. But Bones was determined, and when it became obvious that Jim wasn't going to move, he pushed him back with both hands on Jim's shoulders. Jim allowed himself to be manhandled, but his hands were beyond his command and didn't unclench from Bones' shirt.  
  
"Jim, you're starting to worry me. This ain't the first time you manage to break yourself and end up here, but this is the first time that you freak out about it. What's wrong?"  
  
Jim just shook his head, glad that he was at least spared the embarrassment of bursting into tears at the sheer relief of being with Bones again. Maybe it had all been a bad dream. Maybe for once in his life, things were going to turn out all right.  
  
He shook his head and faked a horribly unbelievable smile. "Nothing. I'm…I'm good. Just confused, I guess."  
  
Bones looked at him for a long moment, the way only he ever took the time to look at Jim – like he was trying to see through all the masks and facades Jim put up to see the real Jim behind it. And normally, Jim let him. Bones was the one person Jim didn't try to hide from, but today there were just too many emotions too close to the surface, things Jim didn't even yet know what to think about, let alone how to deal with them. So instead of meeting Bones' eyes, Jim finally unclenched his fingers from Bones' shirt and leaned back on the bed.  
  
"Really Bones. I'm all right."  
  
The raised eyebrow wordlessly explained just what Bones thought of that self-assessment.  
  
"A cardiac arrest that lasts for over three minutes isn't _all right_ , Jim. It's nowhere even in the vicinity of _all right_."  
  
Jim hadn't looked closely, but he knew that if he did, there'd be those small wrinkles in the corners of Bones' eyes that always appeared there when he was worried. Cardiac arrest sounded like something Bones would worry about.  
  
"I'm just a little confused, Bones. I'm okay."  
  
Jim was lying through his teeth, and he knew that Bones knew it, too. But it was all he could give at that moment, and after a few seconds of close scrutiny, Bones nodded.  
  
"Okay. You'd best try to get some more sleep. I'm going to perform some stress tests tomorrow, and if the results are good and your blood tests come back clean, I'll discharge you."  
  
Jim nodded numbly as he sank back down on the biobed. He was tired. Exhausted even. But as big as the desire to just close his eyes and drift away from Bones' questions and his searching gaze was, the sheer terror that the next time he was going to wake up it would all turn out to be nothing but a hallucination was even worse. If Bones noticed that something was seriously wrong, he didn't let it on.  
  
"No dinner for you tonight, I'm afraid, but if you want some water…"  
  
Jim shook his head, struggling to keep his eyes open. Now that he was lying down again, it seemed like an impossible task, and fatigue was pulling him down, fast.  
  
"You sure you're okay, Jim?"  
  
Jim had every intention to nod his head, even though he was absolutely not all right. How those things combined ended up as a shrug, Jim had no idea, but he could not take it back once it was done, even if Bones started to frown worriedly at him.  
  
"Do you need anything?"  
  
That list was long, and it started with a number of things Jim wasn't too sure Bones was ready to give. So instead, he merely shook his head.  
  
"No, I'm good."  
  
"Okay. Get some rest, Jim."  
  
Bones turned to leave, and Jim wanted to scream and yell at him to not go. How stupid was he to let the other man out of his sight, now that he was finally back again? But he could not ask Bones to stay. It was just…he couldn't. Not without revealing a part of himself that he wasn't yet willing to show. That he might not ever be willing to show the his friend.  
  
"Bones!"  
  
Bones stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"  
  
"Could you…open the curtain?" He pointed at the privacy curtain Chapel had drawn closed around his bed earlier. Bones looked a little surprised, but nodded.  
  
"Sure."  
  
For once, Jim didn't mind that everyone who came into Sickbay to have their scratches or case of the sniffles treated was going to see him lie there. Because with the curtain gone, Jim could see Bones bustling about the room as he drifted off to sleep, and even as he closed his eyes he could still hear him talking to his nursing staff. It wasn't perfect, and definitely not enough to assuage that gut-wrenching fear that come tomorrow morning, all this might be gone again. But in the end Jim could not keep the darkness at bay for any longer, and he couldn't stop himself from drifting off to sleep.  
 **  
\-----*****-----**  
  
The next morning, Jim experienced a surge of panic when he opened his eyes and Bones was nowhere in sight. It was just a short moment, a few seconds during which he didn't realize that he was back on Enterprise and no longer in the psych ward, but it was enough to send his pulse skyrocketing, which in turn sent the monitor above his biobed into a cacophony of alarms.  
  
Bones was by his side only seconds after the first alarms sounded, and to Jim it felt like the chute engaging after a long time of free-falling towards a jagged surface. Bones was still there. He was worried, and grumbling and muttering _damn it, Jim_ under his breath, but that was so known, so comfortable and reassuring that Jim relaxed for the first time in what felt like a small eternity.  
  
It hadn't been a dream.  
  
Bones was here, on Enterprise, with Jim. Right where he should be.  
Maybe the past weeks, the time without Bones, the nervous breakdown, maybe all that had been a dream. A hallucination due to the allergic shock and the medication Bones had given him.  
  
That had to be it.  
  
Bones was definitely real, the way he was grumbling to himself, stabbing Jim with a variety of hyposprays, and not for the first time Jim wondered if he didn't administer half of them simply for the sake of stabbing Jim in the neck. And after the hyposprays, the extremely thorough examination and the stress tests, Bones had to concede that despite the severity of the allergic shock, there was no physical reason to keep Jim in Sickbay for any longer.  
  
Jim was discharged and cleared for light duty.  
  
Over the next couple of days and weeks, life was slowly but surely sliding back into its usual tracks. Jim worked his shifts. He ate meals in the mess hall, he worked out, he wrote reports. Spock handled the mission at the Nubirian colony, and this time it went by without diplomatic incident. After that, they received new orders from Starfleet Command and set a course. Routine crept back into his life, and Jim could not stop it.  
  
But one thing was different than it had been before.  
  
Jim was afraid.  
  
Not constantly, or in a way that would prevent him from doing his job. It wasn't on the forefront of his mind, but it was always there, somewhere in the back of his head. He felt it every morning when he woke up, during those first few seconds of awareness when the room was still dark around him and he was afraid that he would turn on the lights to find himself back in the psych ward at Starfleet Medical. It gripped him every time he entered Sickbay and didn't immediately see Bones in the room.  
  
Jim could not help it. Even if he had only imagined those horrible two weeks without Bones, he still remembered every waking moment of it. Most of all he remembered the feeling of loss, that all-encompassing pain he had felt without the other man. Jim knew what it felt to have something vital taken from him, and he could not shake the fear entirely that it might happen again.  
  
Maybe Q hadn't been real. Maybe he had been just a figment of his imagination. It was possible, and more than just likely. There was nothing about a Q, or a species by that name in any database Jim searched. So it all probably had been just a dream. Jim wasn't sure, but the more time passed without any break in the routine, the more he tended to believe it. He wanted to believe it, _needed_ to if he ever wanted to be completely free of that fear again.  
  
Truth was, Jim couldn't forget about it. He found his ways to deal with the fear whenever it threatened to become overwhelming. And if his first act after waking up every morning was to tell the computer to locate Bones, and if he was only able to breathe freely once the electronic voice informed him pleasantly that Lieutenant Commander McCoy was currently in his quarters, or in Sickbay, then nobody ever had to know about it. And if Jim took great care to spend more time with Bones off-shift, then it was because they were friends. Friends ate meals together. Friends spend the evenings in each other's company. They never talked about that afternoon in Sickbay when Jim had clung to Bones as if the other man was his lifeline. It had been disorientation and a reaction to the medication. That was all there was to it.  
  
Well, it definitely wasn't all there was to it. His feelings for Bones were another thing Jim couldn't push away entirely. But he wasn't going to act on them. No, he had Bones back now, and Jim was content with that. He had to be content with it, because everything else would be just greedy. He most definitely wasn't going to jeopardize what he had again, not by anything.  
  
He had Bones back. He was back on Enterprise, and it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.  
  
Jim's life was back in its usual routine, and slowly but surely Jim was getting back to normal. The worried glances Bones threw at him grew less and less frequent. All was well in the world of James T. Kirk. Days turned into weeks, and while Jim never forgot, he started to feel like everything was going to be all right again.  
  
Until Jim searched the desk drawers in his Ready Room for a PADD. He needed to sign off on a report from Engineering, but didn't remember where he had put it the previous day. It could be anywhere, and his desk drawers were admittedly anything but well-organized. So Jim did the only thing he could do – he pulled out every single drawer and cleared its contents onto his desk.  
  
He didn't find the PADD with the report from Engineering.  
  
But as he searched the bottom drawer, his hands closed around a PADD he thought might be the one he was looking for. Jim pulled it out, but dropped it immediately as soon as he took a look at the display.  
  
Heard beating fast in his chest, Jim blinked a couple of times and looked back towards the PADD he had dropped on his desktop.  
  
Jim felt sick.  
  
This wasn't a report form Engineering.  
  
In fact, it was nothing to do with the Enterprise at all.  
  
Jim's throat closed up and he found it hard to draw breath as his eyes scanned over the surface of the PADD, tracing the lines and sure strokes of the contours there like he remembered doing before, at a time which he had decided had been nothing but a dream.  
  
Until now.  
  
Jim knew that PADD. Only, it had no business being here. It wasn't real, and had never been.  
  
But now it was, and it was glaring at him as if to mock the fragile security Jim had rebuilt for his life.  
  
There, in front of him, was a drawing of Bones that was so detailed, so lifelike that Jim had to close his eyes for a moment.  
  
It was the drawing Yeoman Rand had drawn of Bones, back when Jim had been insane and Bones hadn't been real.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**  
  
Jim didn't know for how long he stared at the drawing on his desk. He had his chair pushed back from the desktop, just as if some physical distance between the PADD and him would make it any less real. By all rights, the drawing was not supposed to exist. Rand had drawn it, of course. And Jim had been there. But all this hadn't happened. Everything after M'Benga had given Jim the vaccine had not happened – Bones' nonexistence, the breakdown, the sedation, Rand drawing the picture of Bones.  
  
All that hadn't happened.  
  
Only, the drawing was here. It was real, and it had been in his desk, where Jim most definitely had not put it, in neither reality.  
  
Abruptly, Jim's head jerked up and he looked around the room, just as if he expected Q to be standing there with that horribly smug grin on his face. But there was nobody. The Ready Room was empty save for Jim, and that made this whole thing even worse. If Q had been there, then at least Jim would know what he was dealing with. But this? This was just some random remnant of a time that shouldn't exist, and Jim had absolutely no idea what to do about it. Or with it.  
  
Bones kept staring at Jim from the all-too lifelike drawing, as if mocking him and daring him to react. Jim didn't know what to do. He had no idea how to react, and probably he would have kept staring at the drawing for the entire night, or until someone interrupted him.  
  
He would have, had not at that moment the alarm light started flashing. At the same time, the klaxon signaling tactical alert started to sound through the room. That was all it took to tear Jim's attention away from the mysteriously reappeared drawing, and he was halfway out the door by the time Spock's voice sounded through the communicator.  
  
"Captain to the Bridge."  
  
The drawing could wait, right now Jim had more important matters to deal with.  
  
As Jim stepped out the door and onto the bridge, Spock got out of the Captain's chair and returned to his station.  
  
Jim cast a look at the view screen as he sat down in the chair Spock had just vacated. The view screen showed an image of the planet they were currently orbiting. They had come to Trelan Prime under orders from Starfleet in order to negotiate the treaty for the planet to join the Federation. Tentative talks had been led by different Federation officials before, and while Trelan Prime was strategically important, so far the Trelan leaders had not been convinced that joining the Federation was in their own best interest, as well.  
  
Pike, when relaying the order to Jim, had called it the _annual obligatory exercise in futility_ , and had told Jim not to get his hopes up. At first that had only served to fuel Jim's ambition to be the one who was going to bring negotiations forward, but after a week of meeting with Trelan Prime's Council of the Elders, he had to admit that it seemed like a hopeless cause. Friendly relations between the Federation and Trelan Prime were a given, but the leaders refused to make an official commitment, claiming that it was too dangerous to take sides in a system that was located so close to Klingon space.  
  
But Trelan Prime was a technologically highly advanced society, something that was necessary because the natural conditions on the planet were not affirmative for any kind of humanoid settlement, and the at times volatile nature needed to be controlled by sophisticated means. The Trelans were not averse to showing off their achievements, and for the past days they had shown the Enterprise crew around the planet's most extraordinary sights.  
  
Scotty hadn't stopped babbling dreamily about technical details once he had come back from his tour around the power plants that managed the energy fields which controlled the energy surges coming from the planet's core.  
  
By now, however, the negotiations were over and they had been preparing to leave within the next twenty hours. Most of the grand tours around the planet had been finished, and nearly the entire crew was back on Enterprise. _Nearly_ the entire crew.  
  
The only ones still on the surface were Chekov and Bones, who were being shown around one of the scientific research stations on the planet. Chekov because he was all giddy about the technical details of how the Trelans contained the planets natural energy surges, and Bones because he was interested in some of the genetic research done in the station, and how that could be used for medical purposes. To be honest, Jim had only been half listening when both men had requested to go planetside, because by that time half the crew had been dead set on seeing the Trelans' technology for their specific area of expertise.  
  
As Jim settled on the Captain's chair, he cast a look at the planet that was shown on the view screen. A large field of clouds was covering the southern hemisphere, and the smaller northern continent was nearly swallowed up by the large green-blue ocean spanning large parts of the planet.  
  
Nothing in that image suggested that something was happening which justified a red alert.  
  
"Report," he said curtly.  
  
"Approximately three minutes ago, our sensors registered an energy surge coming from the planet's core. The eruption was far beyond all readings we previously recorded."  
  
Jim turned his chair so that he could look at Spock.  
  
"I thought the Trelans had a sophisticated containment field to stop these surges from happening."  
  
His First Officer nodded. "Apparently, the strength of the burst was too strong for the field to contain it, and our sensor readings suggest that other surges might follow."  
  
"Damage reports?"  
  
"None aboard, since the surge didn't break the atmosphere. As of yet, there are no reports about the damage sustained planetside."  
  
Jim turned back towards the view screen, trying to figure out what all that was supposed to mean. No damage report could mean that there literally was no damage, but it could just as well mean that the damage was so extensive that nobody was left to report back to them.  
  
"What about the away team?"  
  
From her position behind her console, Uhura shook her head.  
  
"They haven't reported in yet."  
  
Jim immediately hit the communicator button on the console in his chair, even though he knew that Uhura had undoubtedly tried that already.  
  
"Kirk to McCoy, what's your status?"  
  
He received no reply, but still he tried again.  
  
"Kirk to Chekov, report. Chekov, come in."  
  
He didn't even get static as a reply, and his heart started to beat faster in his throat. It was possible that the surge had only blacked out all their communication. There was no reason to assume that something had happened to their people on the surface. To _Bones_ , a little voice in his mind whispered, but Jim ignored it. He was worried about Bones, but that didn't mean he was any less concerned about Chekov, or anybody else on the planet right now.  
  
"Uhura, hail the Trelan Prime Council."  
  
Her fingers flew over the consoles, and with one hand she repeatedly pressed her receiver closer into her ear as if listening for something, but after a few attempts she turned around and shook her head.  
  
"Nothing, Captain. I tried all frequencies, but they do not respond."  
  
"Keep trying. Are there any other ships in the vicinity? Anything that could have caused this from space?"  
  
Crewman Valdez, who was filling in for Chekov in his absence, worked his console with a shake of his head.  
  
"No sir. No other ships within sensor range, and there were no anomalies prior to the surge. Whatever happened, it came from within the planet and not from space."  
  
Of course, because it would have been entirely too easy to be dealing with an aggressive alien species, so they were dealing with a natural disaster instead. Just great.  
  
"Scotty, can we beam our people up?"  
  
"Sorry, sir," the engineer's voice came through the comm. "We don't get no target lock on 'em. Whatever happened, it blew out all our signals on the planet. As of right now I cannae get a lock on anything on tha' planet, not even a fly."  
  
"Keep trying and let me know as soon as you have something."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
This whole mess was getting frustrating really, really fast.  
  
"Can we locate Chekov and McCoy? And if we can, is there anything we can do to contact them or get them out of there?"  
  
"Negative, Captain." Spock was working on his console, and a close up view of the planet's smaller northern continent showed up on the view screen. "The last signal from their communicators right before the surge came from Research Station IV, in the northeast quadrant of the northern continent. Ever since the surge the communicators don't transmit anymore. We have no way of localizing them."  
  
"Do we know if they are still alive?"  
  
Jim didn't even want to think about the possibility that they were not, but with no way to communicate with them, it was a possibility he had to consider.  
  
"There is no evidence suggesting otherwise. And while the surge was powerful enough to damage electronic equipment, the readings suggest that unless directly exposed to the source, it wasn't damaging to the human organism. Given that the building sustained no damage during the surge, it's safe to assume that they are unharmed."  
  
Jim nodded at the assessment. And until they knew anything else, he was going on the assumption that his people were all right and only cut off from communicating with them.  
  
"Can we get them out with a shuttlecraft?"  
  
Spock seemed absorbed in the readings on his monitor, but after a second's hesitation he shook his head.  
  
"Inadvisable. The shuttles are not shielded effectively against that kind of energy emission. If there was another surge in the vicinity of the shuttle, it is very likely that the shockwave would shut down all systems. I would advise against taking such a risk."  
  
"Have a shuttle prepared and ready for immediate launch. I want to keep the option open in case we really need it."  
  
As Uhura hailed Shuttle Bay and relayed the order, Jim got up from his chair and started to pace, the view screen always on the edge of his vision. It was possible, likely even, that Bones and Chekov were all right. Maybe they hadn't even noticed that something was amiss with the planet-wide safety net that was protecting the Trelan inhabitants from their planet's volatile nature. But still, he wanted his people off that planet as soon as possible, and that had little to do with the fact that Bones was one of the crewmembers who was down there.  
  
"Spock, give me the details. What the hell happened to that absolutely infallible containment system the Trelans were bragging about."  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow at the sarcastic undertone in Jim's voice, but obligingly turned his chair so that he was facing Jim.  
  
"Our scanner readings suggest that approximately fifteen minutes ago, one of the nine main power stations that are holding up the containment field around the planet's core failed. The result was an energy surge from the planet's core that affected the entire northern hemisphere. The ion layers in the atmosphere over the northern continent charged up electrically. If that energy is charged up further and the ion layers overload, there is a probability of 93.02 percent that the resulting energy storm is going to shut down the planet's entire power system. Without power…"  
  
"The containment field isn't going to hold up anymore, and without that containment field the planet will revert back to its state before the Trelans settled there." Jim interrupted, not liking that thought just one bit.  
  
The Trelans had settled on Trelan Prime because of its rich resources, but the planet had been adverse to any kind of settlement. Energy surges, magnetic storms, ion storms, the resulting shockwaves…if the containment field failed, they were never going to get their people off the planet. And three hundred million Trelans would be facing a very short life-expectancy.  
  
They had to stop that from happening.  
  
"Then we just have to make sure that the containment field does not fail."  
  
"Sir," crewman Valdez said, drawing Jim's attention away from the science station towards the front of the bridge.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Our readings suggest that the power station that failed isn't offline." He pulled up some readings on his console and studied them as he continued talking in a fast pace. "It is still drawing power from the connected stations, it simply isn't producing any output. If these readings and my calculations are correct, the remaining eight stations should be able to keep the containment field intact, if the damaged station goes offline and stops drawing power from the grid."  
  
"Okay, so how do we get it offline?"  
  
Valdez shrugged and looked up from his console. "We have the coordinates, and our targeting scanners are fully functional despite the charged ion layers in the atmosphere. A well-aimed phaser blast should be able to take the station out, then the other stations should take over covering the entire grid of the containment field."  
  
Jim didn't like the idea of blowing up things on an alien planet without first telling the indigenous inhabitants about it, but right now it didn't sound as if they had many other options.  
  
"Where is the damaged station located?"  
  
"On the northern continent," Spock's voice announced from behind Jim. The image on the view screen changed to show a more detailed image of the area he was talking about. Spock hesitated for a small moment, and that was all it took to startle Jim. If Spock hesitated about something, then they might be in trouble.  
  
"Spock?"  
  
Spock looked up from his monitor, one eyebrow raised as he looked at Jim.  
  
"The power is built underneath a building complex. It's a part of Research Station IV."  
  
Jim felt as if he had been punched in the gut as he turned back to face the view screen. Research Station IV was where Bones and Chekov were. He swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat.  
  
"Is there any chance to take out the power station from space without destroying the rest of the facility?"  
  
Valdez shook his head at the same time as Spock's voice voiced it.  
  
"No, Captain. Our targeting scanners cannot achieve the precision necessary for such a maneuver. The damage to the facility would be extensive."  
  
And Spock made the word extensive sound like a nice euphemism for _total_.  
  
"How many people in the facility?"  
  
"According to the data the Trelans gave us, 209 Trelan researchers, plus Doctor McCoy and Ensign Chekov."  
  
Jim sank back down in his chair, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 211 people who would die if they blew up the station. 300 million inhabitants on the planet who would die if the containment field failed entirely. Rationally, it as a sound equation. Still, it sounded like a very high price to pay, especially if two of the people who would not survive this were his officers. Even more so since one of them was Bones.  
  
"Captain, our sensors register another surge."  
  
Spock's voice tore Jim out of his musings for a moment. He looked up to the screen, and what he saw there made him wonder how he could have thought the planet looked peaceful just a few minutes ago. It looked like blue lightning, only that it surged from the planet's surface upwards where it all but seemed to get trapped. For five seconds or even more, the blue lightning flickered, illuminating the thin sheen of clouds that had started to accumulate over the northern continent. And once it vanished, the clouds seemed to start glowing and flickering by their own volition, flashes of light through the entire blue spectrum.  
  
It would have been beautiful if it weren't so deadly.  
  
Everyone on the bridge seemed to watch the display in rapt fascination. Everyone but Valdez, Jim realized after a second. The young crewman was busy typing commands into his station, his head caught in a constant sideward motion as he contemplated the results.  
  
"The atmosphere keeps charging, sir. I don't know what will happen with the next surge. If the atmosphere discharges, we're not going to be able to stop the resulting chain reaction. I suggest locking the targeting scanners to the station's coordinates before the next surge possibly takes them out."  
  
Pressure, great. Just what he needed right now. That, and an Ensign manning Tactical who seemed all too eager to blow something up while he had the chance.  
  
"You will do what I order you to do, Ensign, and when I give the order. Not a second sooner, is that understood?"  
  
Valdez blushed a little and cast his eyes down in a properly chastised manner.  
  
"Of course, Sir."  
  
"Good."  
  
The cloud formations over the northern continent were getting denser now, and they were still glowing and flickering with the electric charge that had escaped the planet's core. Jim found it hard to tear his eyes away from the display.  
  
"There has to be a way to stop this without blowing up over two hundred people in the process."  
  
Jim turned towards Spock again in hopes that his First Officer was going to have an answer that would achieve exactly that. Spock looked his usual calm and emotionally detached self, but Jim thought he detected a hint, just a small notion of regret in the half-Vulcan's expression as he went over the data on the screen in front of him.  
  
"The consequences of a failing containment field are going to affect the entire planet. So far, the events are contained to the northern continent. I believe Crewman Valdez' calculations are valid, Sir. If we take the power station offline, the remaining stations should be able to keep the containment field in place."  
  
"I was asking for a way to do this without killing innocent people in the process, Spock!"  
  
Spock seemed unfazed by the outburst.  
  
"In my opinion, Crewman Valdez' suggestion is the one with the smallest number of casualties. We cannot beam to or from the planet, and after the most recent surge, sending a shuttle though the atmosphere is an incalculable risk. I do not see any other way to stop the containment field from breaking down."  
  
Jim got up from his chair again, angrily pacing in front of it.  
  
"So you're saying we'll just have to blow up over two hundred civilians and two of our own crew members, just like that?"  
  
Spock got up from his seat as well and stood facing Jim, arms clasped behind his back in his usual manner. Bones had once suggested that he was standing like that to keep himself from strangling Jim. And occasionally, Jim found that he had to agree with that theory. He wasn't entirely sure if today was one of those instances.  
  
"The need of the many outweighs the need of the few, Captain. If Trelan Prime destabilizes, everybody on the planet is going to die, and it is going to affect the entire system. We have to prevent such an even from occurring."  
  
"Trust me, Spock, that's what I want as well. But I'd prefer to do so without killing anybody in the process, much less two members of our own crew."  
  
Jim knew, rationally, that Spock's conclusions were sound. He just refused to accept sacrificing all those people, even if it saved the entire planet. And he told himself, it wasn't because Bones was one of the two crewmembers who were still on the planet. A distant part of him knew that it was a lie, but if he didn't acknowledge that part to himself, then he didn't have to think about what it meant.  
  
Fact was, Jim wasn't going to let anybody on that planet die. Least of all Bones.  
  
"There has to be another way. I'm not going to give that order, Spock. Not until we're sure that there is no other way to get that containment field stabilized."  
  
"We may not have the time, Captain." Spock stepped closer to Jim, as if to give the following part of their conversation a notion of privacy. It was just an illusion on a bridge surrounded by officers who were all listening in on them with worry and anticipation written on their faces. In any other situation, Jim might have appreciated the intention, but right now he had different things to worry about. Like his First Officer, who was obviously not happy – as far as Vulcans were able to be not happy – about Jim's refusal to accept the choice he had laid out.  
  
"I will gladly accept any suggestion that might achieve our goal with less casualties, but right now there is none. I know that it's a hard choice for you to make Captain, especially since Doctor McCoy is still planetside…"  
  
"This has nothing to do with whether or not Bones is aboard or down there!" Jim snapped, but Spock continued as if he hadn't heard.  
  
"…but right now this is the only choice available. It's the logical choice. And sometimes, the logical and right choice requires sacrifice. The Bridge Officer's Test is supposed to prepare any future Captain for that possibility."  
  
"The Bridge Officer's Test? You're seriously comparing this to that? It's a simulation, Spock! Ordering someone to sacrifice themselves in a simulation with no consequences does not compare to this situation at all! This here is a whole different league, how can you not understand that?"  
  
"I do understand perfectly well," Spock replied, still eerily calm about the whole issue. "However, this here might be one of the situations this test is supposed to prepare every commanding officer for. Your refusal to accept it even as a possibility is quite unsettling, Captain."  
  
Jim shook his head. "I will accept it as soon as we have made sure that there is no other possible venue. And if you have a problem with that, Commander, I suggest you leave the bridge right now."  
  
For a moment they just stared at each other, Spock seemingly unperturbed and Jim with what he knew was barely concealed fury. They disagreed occasionally, him and Spock, but they hadn't clashed like this in a long time. And Jim knew that in part this was because Spock was right – he was unwilling to give the order to fire on the research station because Bones was down there. And he knew that as Captain, he had to be able to make that choice regardless.  
  
It scared Jim a little that he thought he was able to. But only once they had considered every other possibility, and not a second before that.  
  
It was Spock who finally broke the staring and went back to his station. For now the matter had been dropped, but there was no doubt that Spock was going to bring it up again soon if Jim didn't find another way to stop whatever was happening down on the planet quickly.  
  
Jim turned back to the view screen, where the clouds over the northern continent were still flashing dimly with the electrical charges.  
  
"Uhura, did you raise the Trelan Prime Council?"  
  
"No Sir." She shook her head. "I tried all frequencies, but no response. There's not even static on the channels, it's very unusual."  
  
Jim ran a hand through his hair, trying to find out why all this was rubbing him the wrong way. The obvious answer was that it was because Bones' life was on the line down there, but he knew that wasn't all of it. Something about this whole thing was off. Very off. He just couldn't put his finger on it.  
  
"Is it just me, or does all of this seem awfully convenient?"  
  
Sulu, who up until now had watched the events around him silently, seemed baffled.  
  
"What do you mean, Sir?"  
  
"What I mean is that the power failure occurred in the northern hemisphere. The surges did, too, and that ion storm is brewing over the northern continent."  
  
"But the Commander said it, the effects are going to affect the whole planet."  
  
"So what, there is one power failure and suddenly the planet's entire communications system goes down? It doesn't make sense." Jim turned back towards Spock, feeling the knot in his thoughts unravel now that he was speaking them out loud. "We're talking about a highly advanced species. The Trelans consider our most recent innovations old news, and you want me to believe that one failing power station is going to kill their entire planet? That containment field has been working flawlessly for the past one hundred and fifty years. It doesn't make sense."  
  
Spock considered Jim's words for a moment, but of course he had nothing better to do than play devil's advocate to Jim's theory.  
  
"Every system has its weak spots, Captain."  
  
"The northern continent isn't even inhabited, Spock. All the cities, the entire Trelan civilization is located on the southern continent. Yet one single malfunction thousands of miles away is enough to cut off every single means of communication on the planet? We lost contact with our men planetside, we no longer pick up their signals, yet all of our scanners – including the targeting scanners – are still working just fine? It doesn't make a lick of sense, Spock. Even you have to admit it."  
  
"It seems unusual. However, I do not see how that would give us a different choice on how to proceed."  
  
Jim was this close to throw his hands up in frustration. He didn't have the answer to that question, but he simply knew that there was something off about this whole thing.  
  
"I just have the feeling that we're seeing this whole thing from the wrong direction. It's the start of it all that doesn't make sense. One single power failure causes all this? That's what doesn't make any sense at all. I mean, it's Engineering 101 – integral parts of any system have a backup. They're protected against overloading, and they damn well are supposed to have an automated off-switch that takes them offline when they're not functioning properly, so that the backup system can take over. And this highly sophisticated system that's supposed to protect an entire planet against these lethal surges has none of that? You can't tell me that's true."  
  
One dark eyebrow rose as Spock contemplated Jim's words.  
  
"It seems…improbable."  
  
"It seems fucking impossible, you mean." Jim resumed his pacing, one hand buried in his hair and chewing on his lip as he tried to pinpoint what exactly was bothering him so much about this. And really, only one explanation made sense.  
  
"It seems like a setup."  
  
Spock's other eyebrow rose to join the first.  
  
"A setup? Are you suggesting that someone deliberately manipulated the power station?"  
  
"Not the power station, this entire situation, Spock. Thinks about it. For over a century the Trelan system works perfectly. And then, just as we happen to be here, one single failure, one that by all rights shouldn't happen in the first place, threatens the very existence of the entire planet and every single life form on it. That's already one hell of a coincidence, don't you think? And as if that wasn't enough, we can't communicate with anybody on the planet, but just by chance, despite all the equipment failures, our targeting scanners work just fine. We can save the planet if we only blast away that one power station. All we have to do is sacrifice two hundred people and two members of our own crew. Doesn't this sound like a setup to you?"  
  
Spock cocked his head to the side in a gesture Jim had come to know as meaning that he was acknowledging a point he hadn't contemplated before.  
  
"I have to agree that it would be a very big coincidence. However, I don't see who would profit from putting us into this situation."  
  
Jim did. And probably he wouldn't have if he hadn't found that drawing in his desk just minutes before the incident. But he had lived through such a manipulated reality before, and if it had taught him anything – aside from quite a number of things about his relationship to Bones – then it was to never again take any circumstances for granted, or as an unchangeable fact.  
  
Jim couldn't help the feeling that this was a setup, some kind of weird test to see how he was going to react. And with the memory of Q and what he had done to him so fresh in mind, and confirmed as real by that drawing in his desk, Jim could not help but notice the eerie similarities between this scenario and Q's words.  
  
Q had told him that his feelings for Bones were going to be his downfall. He had accused Jim that he was always going to put his own selfish need to keep Bones safe above everything else, and that it was going to influence his decisions as a Captain. And now Jim found himself in just that situation – as Captain, he was supposed to make the decision that was going to save the lives of over three hundred million people on that planet, and he could only save them if he was willing to sacrifice Bones' life for it.  
  
Jim's gut was screaming that it was a setup, and his gut feelings had saved his life more than once already.  
  
Jim sat back down in his chair and pressed a button on the console to his left. If he was wrong with this, Spock was going to have a good reason to relieve him of his command, and maybe throw him to the brig, or have him transported back to the loony bin. But that was a risk Jim was willing to take, because he was sure that he wasn't wrong about this.  
  
"Spock, tell me one thing."  
  
Spock seemed slightly taken aback by the jovial tone in Jim's voice.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"The first surge we registered from the planet, which station raised alert about it?"  
  
Spock was going to pull a muscle if he pulled that eyebrow just a little higher, but Jim was too intent on the answer his First Officer was going to give to be amused about that thought right now.  
  
"Spock?"  
  
"Tactical, since I was in the Command Chair and not manning Science at that moment."  
  
And that was just the answer Jim had expected to hear. He bit down a small smile and leaned back in his chair, swiveling it to the right as he heard the turbolift doors behind him open. Jim probably was the only one on the bridge who wasn't surprised to see two lieutenants from security enter the bridge, phasers in hand. But then again, he was the one who had called them just moments ago.  
  
One of the security officers was Cupcake – who in real life went by the boring name of Roger Phelps, and had proven to be a reliable addition to their crew over the past years, one who didn't hold a grudge for how they had first met – immediately turned towards Jim.  
  
"Captain? What's the emergency?"  
  
Spock got up from his seat and came to a halt between Jim and the officers. "Captain? Might I inquire what this is all about?"  
  
"You may, Spock." Jim turned towards Cupcake. "Lieutenant Phelps, I want you to place crewmember Valdez under arrest and confine him to the brig until further notice."  
  
Phelps nodded without question, one of the most important things about a reliable security officer. Spock, however, didn't seem all too inclined to let this go down without questioning it. Neither, it seemed, did Valdez, who jumped up from his seat behind his console.  
  
"Now wait a second! Why are you arresting me? What have I done?"  
  
"A valid inquiry, Sir. On what charges are you putting crewman Valdez under arrest?"  
  
Jim turned to look at the man who had been manning the tactical station for this shift. Valdez was wide-eyed and had a scared expression on his face. For a second, just the fragment of a moment, Jim doubted if he was right about this, but then he pushed that thought away and relied on his gut feeling, and the conclusions he had drawn earlier. Stepping closer to Valdez, Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked the young man straight in the eye.  
  
"We'll see about the details once this whole mess is cleared up. For now, the main charge is Treason, but I'm sure we're going to add a number of other charges. Lieutenant Phelps, take him to the brig."  
  
Phelps stepped up to Valdez, who still seemed extremely stunned at this development. But as Phelps reached for the young man's arms, Valdez suddenly tried to make a break for it. He managed to push Phelps off and tried to use that second of confusion to escape, but Jim's security crew was well-trained. The second security officer hadn't taken his eyes off of Valdez, and he immediately had him pressed up against the wall with the crewman's left arm pinned uncomfortably against his back.  
  
Jim noticed that his heart was beating fast in his chest despite the fact that he was convinced he was doing the right thing. Pressed up against the wall, Valdez was looking at him from wide and frantic eyes as Jim stepped up to him.  
  
"Please…Sir, I don't know what you think I did, but I didn't do anything wrong. I was only doing my job."  
  
It was heartfelt, and sounded real. So real that from the corner of his eyes, Jim saw Spock make a step towards them, and he knew that they were running out of time before his First Officer was going to put an end to what he was doing. He smiled grimly at the still struggling Valdez.  
  
"I think that's been enough dramatics for one day, Q."  
  
Valdez stopped struggling from one moment to the next, and despite the fact that he had been nearly one hundred percent sure that he was on the right track, Jim couldn't help the sickening feeling of relief that settled in his stomach as a grin slowly spread over Valdez' face. He winked at Jim, and a second later there was a bright flash and the security officer stumbled into the wall with a startled _oomph_ as empty air replaced the space where crewman Valdez had been only a moment before.  
  
"What the…" Phelps had unholstered his phaser and looked around the bridge in confusion, but Jim didn't spare his security personnel much of a thought right now. His thoughts were occupied by something else entirely.  
  
"Why James, you astonish me."  
  
Jim spun around to where the voice had come from, just in time to see Q detach himself from the opposite wall, just as if he had been leaning against it casually for the past minutes while he watched the proceedings. Jim's heart was racing and he felt his hands clench and unclench at his sides as he was facing the being that had thrown his entire life off track. Q still looked like Jim remembered him, only that this time he was clad in a 22nd century Admiral's dress uniform. He smiled genially as Jim's eyes met his, and pointed a finger at him.  
  
"Very clever, James. It seems I underestimated you this time."  
  
"What do you want?" Jim growled out from behind clenched teeth.  
  
"Me? Oh, not much. Can't an old friend just drop by to say hello?"  
  
Jim forced himself not to react to the taunt, although it was hard.  
  
"What do you want, Q?"  
  
Q shrugged. "I just dropped by to see if you had taken our last conversation to heart. It seems to me that you might need a little reinforcement." He shook his head sadly. "You still haven't learned your lesson. And I'm afraid that it's going to cost your crew dearly."  
  
From the corner of his eye, Jim saw Phelps make a step forward, phaser in hand. He jerked to the side instinctively, trying to bat the weapon out of the security officer's hand, but it was too late. Q merely waved a hand in their direction, but it was enough to send the man flying against the wall. His head impacted with a loud thud and he dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.  
As if that had been the sign of aggression he had been waiting for, the second security officer moved forward with his weapon in hand, and Jim knew that this situation was about to get seriously out of control.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Jim watched as the security officer aimed his weapon at Q and knew he wasn't going to be able to get to him in time to stop him from pulling the trigger. Jim had the distinct feeling that shooting Q wasn't going to do much damage to the being, but the lives of too many people down on that planet were in Q's hands, and Bones was amongst them. They couldn't risk to anger him.

"Hold your fire!"

It seemed as if everything froze, and for a split second Jim didn't realize that it had been his own voice that had shouted that order. He was no stranger to giving orders, but never once had his voice sounded so authoritative and commanding in his own ears. He had never needed to raise his voice to that degree, and it sounded like a stranger's voice in his own ears.

But it was enough to stop the security officer from pulling the trigger as he, like everyone else on the bridge, turned to look at Jim with various degrees of astonishment in their expressions. Jim tore himself out of his stupor and quickly hurried over towards the lieutenant, pressing down his outstretched arm so that the weapon pointed at the ground.

"Hold your fire," he repeated, more calmly but with an equal amount of authority and determination in his voice, even though he still had no idea where he was drawing all that from. "That's an order, lieutenant. Nobody will fire a weapon on this bridge without my explicit order to do so, is that understood?"

Still seemingly stunned, the man nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Captain?"

Spock had both eyebrows raised in what Jim had once dubbed the Vulcan's WTF-expression. Back then Jim had thought it funny, a small joke for himself to tide him over during boring bridge shifts, and after a few months the moniker had stuck. It hadn't ever seemed more childish and wrong before, even if it had only ever been uttered in his own head. Jim only shook his head at his First Officer.

"It wouldn't do much good to shoot at him, Spock. Trust me."

The sound of clapping hands tore through the silence in the room, and Jim spun around to face Q again.

"Very good, Jim. Not that a simple particle weapon would be able to harm me, but it is always a hassle. Firefights erupt so easily, then there's chaos, and it takes endlessly long to get to the point I wanted to make, if everyone is even still alive once all the shooting is over and done with." He waved his hand in a circular motion as he talked, face pulled into a distasteful grimace. "So, now that everyone has their trigger fingers under control, we can continue where we left off during our last conversation."

"Captain?" Jim didn't look at Spock, but he simply knew that the Vulcan's eyebrows were climbing previously unknown heights. "You have met before?"

"It's a long story, Spock." One Jim didn't want to talk about. Not right now, and preferably not ever. But the moment he saw an almost feral grin spread on Q's face, Jim knew that he wasn't going to be granted that small mercy.

"Oh, don't tell me that you didn't tell anybody about our last encounter, Jim." Q laughed out loud as if that piece of news greatly delighted him. "But of course, the circumstances of our last meeting probably didn't exactly make it any easier to explain. Well, I'm afraid we don't have enough time for a detailed rehashing of things, so you'll have to do the catching up later. Right now you Jim still have a choice to make."

He gestured towards the view screen, where the charged clouds in Trelan Prime's atmosphere were still flickering like blue lightning. The northern continent was entirely engulfed by now, and the threatening mass of clouds was steadily progressing towards the inhabited southern continent. It was a mesmerizing sight, beautiful despite its inherent danger for over three hundred million people down on that planet. Two of which were Jim's people, one of them Bones, the one person Jim wasn't ever willing to lose again.

"This is all your doing," Jim hissed at Q. It was the only explanation that made sense, the only way to explain how something that should by all rights have been impossible had happened. But if Q was in any way fazed by Jim's words, he didn't let it on. The pleasant smile on is face never wavered, and he was watching Jim in a way that was almost creepily familiar.

It was Q who finally broke his gaze and turned towards the display on the view screen.  
"It would be beautiful if it weren't so dangerous," he said, mirroring Jim's earlier thoughts nearly word for word. Jim didn't think Q could read minds, but it was an uncanny feeling nevertheless.

"Where is crewman Valdez?" Jim asked, his voice sharp and authoritative. Q only shrugged.

"He's taking a nap. Oh, don't look at me like that, Jim. He's perfectly all right, although I think you should enforce stricter control over neglect of duties like sleeping on the job."

Jim glared at the being in front of him. The tension on the bridge was so thick it was nearly tangible, but Jim steadfastly refused to look at anyone but Q. If he did so, he might break the spell. Spock was going to demand answers, and who knew what those two trigger-happy security guards were going to come up with despite his orders. No. Jim had to keep his focus on Q, and for as long as Spock and the rest of his bridge crew thought he had things under control, for as long as Jim maintained the illusion that he had a plan he was following, he was buying himself time.

Time to stop that whole damn planet from going up in magnetic and ion storms that would kill every one on the surface.

Time to save Bones and Chekov. That was all that mattered right now.

"Stop it."

Q turned towards Jim, eyebrows raised in mock confusion. "Stop what?"

"This!" Jim's arm shot out, index finger pointing at the clouds that were rolling menacingly through the planet's atmosphere. "I know that this is your doing, Q. And I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but there's the lives of over three hundred million people at stake, and I can't let you do that."

"But I'm not doing anything, Jim."

Q was the perfect picture of innocence. So perfect that nobody could possibly buy the act, but Q didn't even seem to care whether or not anybody believed him. He smiled knowingly at Jim.

"I'm not doing anything. It's just a big piece of bad luck that the power station failed."

"Of course you're not. A power station which by all rights should be working fine suddenly stops working. And coincidentally, it doesn't go offline entirely, so that the backup system has no chance to kick in. All of a sudden there's an entire civilization at stake because of something that's fucking impossible, and you want to tell me that you just happen to be around?"

Q shrugged. "I live to serve, Jim."

"No, you live to meddle with things you should keep your nose out of. So what, the last time wasn't enough for you?"

Jim was forgetting more and more that there were others around. The entire bridge crew was watching how he lost it, but it was as if Jim's vision narrowed to contain nothing but Q. His anger was dangerously close to boiling over, and if Q kept on looking at him with that knowing smile on his face, then Jim was going to lose the last bit of patience he still had.

If Q noticed how precarious Jim's hold on his anger was, he didn't let it on. Maybe he did, and was trying to push Jim over the edge. If that was his plan, he was close to succeeding.

Q's smile widened.

"Oh, but the last time barely scratched the surface, my dear Jim. And what a strange coincidence that we should meet again here and now. Doesn't this," now he pointed towards the view screen, "remind you of the conversation we had during our last meeting?"

Jim swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat, but to no avail. He hadn't needed Q's words to know what all this meant, but he didn't want to contemplate the implications.

This was exactly what Q had talked about in the hospital. The exact same situation as he had described. The life of an entire planet was at stake, and Jim could only save all those lives if he sacrificed Bones. Bones and Chekov and over two hundred other people in that research station, but that was not the reason why Q had brought them into this position. No, this was solely for Jim's benefit, and it was all about one thing – whether or not Jim was able to sacrifice Bones.

Truth was, Jim knew that he could do it. He could give that order.

It would tear him up from the inside, it would kill a vital part of Jim right along with it, but if it was the only way to save his entire crew, or a planet full of innocent people, Jim could do it.

But this wasn't such a situation. Q had done this. The whole situation on the planet had only gotten out of control because of Q's interference. Jim didn't doubt for one second that a being powerful enough to make him live through two weeks that weren't real at all had the power to make it seem like a planet was on the verge of self-destruction. And if Jim gave the order to destroy that research station now, he was only going to play into Q's hands.

It wasn't the right thing to do, not this time. It would be the exact wrong thing, the confirmation of whatever lesson about mankind's faults and flaws Q wanted him to learn.

Jim wasn't going to give Q that satisfaction. He was going to find a way to undo this without any lives being lost, and if he couldn't get Q to undo what he had done, then he was going to have to find his own way.

"Last chance, Q. Stop this. Undo whatever you did on that planet!"

"Or else?" Q rolled his eyes. "Really Jim, you should know that all you have are empty threats. You can't force me to do anything, Jim. In fact, all you can do, is give the order to save that planet. It's just one order, after all. You don't even need to pull the trigger yourself. Two hundred lives to save an entire civilization, I think Starfleet regulations are pretty clear on the course of action you're supposed to take."

Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest defiantly. "I won't do it."

The smile had been present on Q's face ever since his appearance, but now it took on a new quality. It turned smug, as if he had expected to hear that answer.

"This is the point where, if I'm not much mistaken, it's my part to say I told you so, isn't it? Because I did tell you exactly that. Dependencies, Jim. That's all it ever comes down to. You're so entangled in your dependencies that you can't make the choice you have to make. Tell me Jim, if it were anybody but precious Doctor McCoy down on that planet, would we even have this discussion?"

"This is not about Bones!" And what a hypocrite Jim was for saying this, and for putting as much anger and outrage into the words as he did. Because it was a blatant lie. It was all about Bones, but Jim wasn't going to give Q the satisfaction of admitting that. "The reason why we are having this discussion is that you did this. You are about to kill an entire planet just because you're trying to prove a point, and I'm not going to play along with your fucked up little games!"

"Jim, you have to free yourself of the misconception that this is a game."

"Captain, the atmosphere of Trelan Prime keeps charging. It's going to reach the critical point soon."

Spock's voice cut through the furious haze in Jim's brain, but it took a few seconds for the words to properly register. Q took a small step closer, but not close or hastily enough to be perceived a security threat by anyone else on the bridge.

"See Jim? Not a game at all."

And suddenly Jim knew that he wasn't going to get Q to undo whatever he had done to the planet. Not like this. He turned back towards his First Officer.

"Spock?"

The Vulcan shook his head. "I cannot give a precise estimate. The surges are unpredictable, but the atmosphere is going to discharge soon." He checked something on his screen, then looked up at Jim with something like regret in his eyes. And that was what shook Jim out of the furious rage in which nothing but Q had counted. If Spock was showing his concern this clearly, then it was bad.

"Captain, I'm afraid that there is no other way to stop the atmosphere from discharging than to take out the faulty power station. Not without any communications to the planet's surface."

Jim shook his head. "Not as long as there's still people in that station."

Q no longer mattered. All that mattered was that Jim had to find a way to stop the planet from getting ravaged by lethal ionic storms, and his mind was spinning into overdrive. There was only one way, really. It wasn't perfect, and there was no guarantee that it was even going to work, but he had to try.

"Sulu, how close can we get?"

The young pilot turned towards Jim with his brows creased in confusion. "To the planet?"

"Yes."

"As close as you want to, Sir. I mean, we can't breach atmosphere, and we should stay clear of the charged clouds, but we can break orbit and get closer at any time."

Jim nodded and hurried over towards his chair, a purpose to his stride no that he had found something else to focus his mind on other than his anger at Q and his fear for Bones. Sitting down, he slapped the button to open a comm link to Engineering.

"Scotty, is the shuttle ready?"

"Aye Captain, she's ready to launch. Though I cannae advise taking her down planetside, Captain."

"I need a clear answer, Scotty, and I need it now. Can it be done?"

There was a moment of silence through the comm before the Scotsman spoke again, his voice more halting and hesitant than before.

"Aye. The shuttle is sturdy enough to withstand, but if it gets hit by a direct charge, then it'll go down."

From the corner of his eyes Jim saw Spock step up to his chair.

"Captain, I must advise against this course of action…"

"Duly noted, Spock."

But the Vulcan wasn't ready to give in so easily. "Judged by the frequency of the previous charges, there is no time to take a shuttle down to the planet before the charge in the atmosphere reached the critical point."

Jim shook his head and got up from his chair again, too worked up to remain sitting for any longer. His mind was whirling with thoughts and calculations, and his legs needed to work off some of that energy.

"I might be able to establish communications with the research station once I breach atmosphere. Tell them to evacuate so that you can take out the power station."

"No Captain," Uhura interrupted from her console. "The interruption of communication occurred before the atmosphere started being charged like this. It's unlikely that it will be any different if you take a shuttle down to the planet. The reason why we have no communication is something unrelated to this."

Spock nodded in agreement, and inwardly Jim cursed them both for teaming up against him, no matter how irrational that thought was.

"And even if you could reach the station and tell them to evacuate, you would still have no way to let Enterprise know that it had been achieved. And all the while the atmosphere keeps charging up further. There is simply no time, Captain."

Jim knew that Spock was right, and he knew that they didn't have time to think of another plan because the next surge might already cause the atmosphere to discharge. They needed time now, more than anything. Jim needed to figure out a way to buy them some time.

"We have to discharge the atmosphere some other way then."

Spock's eyebrows climbed as high as Jim had ever seen them. "Captain?"

But Jim's mind had already latched onto that thought, and he hurried over to the science station to check the readouts on Spock's console.

"If we can deflect some of the energy in the atmosphere somewhere else, it would buy us time. Enough time to take the shuttle down and evacuate the research station."

"In theory," Spock said carefully. "But the atmosphere won't just discharge into a vacuum. It would require using something to deflect the energy to. Something of substantial size."

"Enterprise," Jim said calmly and turned away before he could see his First Officer's reaction.

"Scotty, what's the status on the shuttle?"

"Ready to launch, Captain. Although I looked a' those readins, and I really don't think she's sturdy enough to deal with tha' kind of energy impact."

"We're going to use Enterprise to deflect some of that energy. If we launch the shuttle immediately after that, it should be able to breach atmosphere relatively safely."

For a second, there was silence. Then Scotty's voice sounded again, more hesitant and with a definite note of confusion.

"You wanna use the ship to deflect the charge of the atmosphere?"

"Yes." And really, Jim knew that it was a risky plan, but he thought it warranted at least some consideration.

"Erm…never mind me sayin' that, but Enterprise is a spaceship, and bein' Captain and all, I know that you know that. She was made for flying in vacuum, not in atmospheres. It's in the manual."

"We're not going to fly into the atmosphere, Scotty. But if we approach the atmosphere at half impulse, maybe a little more, and at a flat angle, we should bounce right off. With polarized hull plating and the shields up, that should cause the energy at the point of impact to discharge against the ship. It should leave an opening for a shuttle to fly through, and it would buy us some time."

Spock was already typing away at his console again, and the silence through the comm signaled that Scotty was doing some calculations of his own.

"Aye," finally came the reply over the comm, albeit very hesitantly. "In theory."

"We don't have time for prolonged theory, Scotty. I need to know if it's safe for the ship or not."

Jim thought it was, with maybe some damage to the ship as such, but not to the crew aboard. Damage to the ship he was willing to risk, nothing else.

"If we put all available energy into the shields and hull integrity, aye. But not without damage."

"How severe?"

"It's probably gonna blow out relays all over the ship. We might lose energy, fry a whole lot of circuits, and we'd lose control over some parts of the ship. I cannae isolate Shuttle Bay controls from the main system, if the impact blows out the relays we need to open the launch doors, we're not going to get that shuttle out of the ship in the first place. There's no guarantee this'll work."

Jim was startled when he felt Spock's hand on his arm, turning him around to face the Vulcan. Spock didn't usually initiate physical contact, but now he kept a firm hold on Jim's arm until Jim met his gaze.

"Captain, even if we manage to deflect some of the energy in the atmosphere onto the ship, there is no telling if it is truly going to give us enough time to get to the surface and evacuate the research station before the atmosphere recharges and the chain reaction starts."

Jim was breathing hard and he felt his heart hammer against his sternum as if he had just run a marathon.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

Spock was still looking straight into Jim's eyes even as the pressure of his hand released and he let go.

"The risk to the ship and crew is too high to attempt and use Enterprise to deflect the energy. We can't get to the surface in time to evacuate, and we have no communications. You know what the only logical choice in this matter is, Captain."

Jim shook his head. "No. I won't give that order, Spock. I won't kill over two hundred people without giving them even a damn warning that they are in danger." He turned back towards the console on the arm of his chair. "Prepare the shuttle for immediate launch, Scotty, and meet me in Shuttle Bay right away." He pushed another button. "All hands, this is the Captain. We're going to fly a maneuver that is going to affect the ship's systems. Prepare for power failure in a number of non-vital systems. Everybody report to their duty stations immediately, and brace for impact. Kirk out."

Jim hit the comm console to deactivate it, not wondering that he suddenly felt calm. It was always like this, all anxiety and tension faded to the background once he had settled on a course of action. There was no use thinking about what ifs anymore, now all he had to do was focus on getting down to that planet and save the people in that research station before the entire planet went up in a big magnetic and electrical storm.

"Captain, I have to stress that this course of action bears a high risk of failure."

Jim patted his First Officer's shoulder with a smile. "It won't, Spock. I'll make sure that it won't."

"The logical choice would be to take out the faulty power station and let the planet's backup system regulate the surges."

"I know. And that is exactly what I want you to do after I go down there. Wait for as long as you can, but before that atmosphere is at the point where it discharges I want you to take out the power station. Even if I manage to get all these people out of the complex, we still need to stop those surges. And if I don't…" Jim stopped himself, unable to finish that sentence. "At least that way, we'll have a chance to get those people to safety before we shoot at the complex. But we have to stop those surges."

Spock nodded, after a moment of hesitation. "Yes, Captain."

"But why go all those lengths and fly a risky maneuver and go down the planet by yourself?"

Jim spun around to face Q, his anger suddenly flaring up white and hot unlike anything he had felt before.

"Because you didn't leave me any other choice, you bastard!"

Q didn't seem fazed in the least. "I have nothing to do with whatever choice you make, Jim. And I'd dare say that after more than two years of being Captain, you are no stranger to a situation in which you have to sacrifice someone for the sake of many. But this time you steadfastly refuse to make the right choice, Jim. I wonder why that is so."

Jim wanted to punch Q, and if he hadn't known from previous experience that it was a futile hope, he wouldn't have hesitated to bury his fist in that smugly grinning face.

"Because you're not leaving me any choice, Q. None that's even remotely right, or acceptable. I would give the order to take out that power station in a heartbeat if any of this was happening for real, and not just because you interfered and tried to put me through yet another test!"

Q gave a dramatic wave with his hand. "Please, we both know that it's not the whole truth. Not even close, probably. Or do I need to remind you how you reacted the last time you thought something happened to your precious Bones? Because while I think your crew would be only too keen to gather a glimpse at that, we both know that it wasn't pretty. So do you really want to tell me that this has nothing at all to do with the fact that it's him who's trapped down there on that planet? That your motivations are pure and professional? Come on Jim, we both know that every other Captain would have long blown up that power station and had it over and done with. Even your First Officer would prefer that approach."

"I'm not every other Captain." Jim felt himself bristle at the insinuation. "And I told you, it's not about Bones."

Q laughed. "Of course it isn't. We both know that the mere idea of losing him reduces you to a blubbering mess, Jim. Why don't you just admit it, Jim?"

"Admit what? That I care about him? Of course I do! He's my best friend, of course I care about him!"

Q rolled his eyes dramatically. "You care about him. You care enough about him to go crazy when he's suddenly gone, you care enough about him to despair about all the things left unsaid. You care enough about him that losing him puts you in a mental hospital, and now you care about him so much that you'd rather risk your own life to save him instead of making the rational choice."

They were wasting time, and Jim suddenly felt himself snap. It was a nearly physical sensation, unlike anything he had ever felt before. For the first time, Jim didn't give a damn about whether or not they had an audience around, or whether or not he was saying thing he'd much rather keep quiet. He had no time to lose, and every second Q kept him from getting to Shuttle Bay was a second his people on the planet didn't have.

He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Jim saw his own hands fisted into the lapels of Q's shirt and had pushed him up against the nearest console.

"It's none of your business, Q. I don't know if you're bored to death with sitting on your omnipotent ass all day, but what I do and why I do it is none of your fucking business! It wasn't any of your business when you meddled the first time and took Bones away, and it isn't now. The moment you started messing with my crew you crossed a line! There isn't only Bones down there, there's another member of my crew and over two hundred innocent scientists whose lives are at risk, and I'm not going to give them up without a fight. I would do the same thing for any other member of my crew. I'm not doing this because it's about Bones, and you have no right to make assumptions about my motives just because I love him."

In any other situation, Jim might have been horrified about what he had just said, about all the things that had been said over the past minutes, but right now it didn't even register. The only thing that did was Q, and Jim's absolute fury at what he was putting him through again. A distant part of his brain, the one that was still thinking rationally, wondered why Q allowed him to push him up against that console when Jim knew he could have vanished at any time. He would like to believe that the sheer force of his ire was what was keeping him there, but the part of his brain that had taken control, the decidedly not rational part, didn't give a damn about it.

"I have no idea why you think you have any right to judge me, or my people. And if you want to learn anything about humans, then you might want to try out watching us before you start meddling! You don't get to mess with my people or me just because you want to provoke me into reacting in a certain way. But here's a lesson for you, Q: You don't get to make my choices for me. You screwed this whole situation to hell, but if you think I'm not going to fight you every step of the way, you're sorely mistaken. You give me two completely unacceptable choices, so I'll just find a third one and make it work. And now get out of my way, I have to get to Shuttle Bay."

Jim released his hold on Q's shirt and roughly pushed him away. It felt as if pure adrenaline was running through his veins, and his vision narrowed until all he could see was the turbolift door he was walking towards. He was going to get into that shuttle, fly down to that planet and he was damn well going to make sure that the research station was evacuated before Enterprise blew it to smithereens. And then he was going to think up a way to deal with Q.

But for now, all he could think of was to get his people off that planet.

"You have your orders, Spock. Wait for as long as you can justify, but take out that power station before it starts that damn chain reaction. Mr. Sulu, plot a course and angle that's flat enough to actually have Enterprise repelled by the atmosphere. I'll comm once I'm in Shuttle Bay."

It were only two more steps, maybe three. The turbolift doors would open with the next step Jim was going to take towards them, and then it was a matter of two or three minutes before he'd reach the shuttle.

But his foot didn't take that step, and the doors remained closed. There was a startled shout and the sound of movement behind him, then someone took a hold of his upper arm and yanked him back with surprising strength. Jim saw the room swirl around him as he was pulled back. He caught a quick glance of Spock, like a snapshot that had caught him mid-movement towards Jim, then suddenly the whole bridge lit up in a bright white flash. Jim lost his footing, his next startled step to keep his balance meeting nothing but air, and then he was falling.


	8. Chapter 8

**  
Chapter 8**  
  
The whole bridge lit up in a flash of bright white light, and Jim experienced that horrible lurch of vertigo as his foot hit only empty air where he had expected solid ground. He was falling, his center of gravity completely off-balance, but just as he thought that he was going to plunge face-first to the floor, the grip around his upper arm tightened and he found himself yanked back. His feet touched solid ground, and Jim blinked rapidly as the bridge came into view again. Who the hell had thought that putting a step on the bridge was an act of architectural genius and part of a brilliant design should be shoved out of an airlock and see how they liked not having solid ground beneath their feet. He was going to have Scotty turn the step into a ramp first thing once this whole damn mess was over, that was for sure. But if anybody on the bridge had seen this embarrassing misstep, they were too occupied to let it on. Jim quickly straightened and looked around. He had to figure out what this was all about, and he had to do so quickly. There wasn't much time; he needed to get aboard the shuttle as fast as he could.  
  
The bridge looked…normal, for lack of a better word. Creepily, _eerily_ normal.  
  
Jim had no idea what had happened, but judged by the dazed gazes all around him, he hadn't been the only one to witness the flash of bright light. Only, if it had done anything to the ship, then Jim had no idea what it was. Everything looked perfectly normal, from the illumination and all the consoles right to the perfectly functioning view screen showing Trelan Prime suspended in space.  
  
Jim did a double take, his head snapping back to stare at the view screen even as he was brushing off Q's hold on his upper arm. There on the view screen was Trelan Prime, just the way Jim had gotten used to seeing it over the past week – a nearly cloudless atmosphere surrounding a northern hemisphere consisting mostly of ocean, and the large continent on the southern hemisphere in its subdued green and brown tones looked almost mocking in its peacefulness. There were no malicious clouds gathering over the northern hemisphere, no flashes of lightning, no force of nature that was threatening to destroy all life on the planet any second now.  
  
Nothing.  
  
It looked just as if nothing had happened.  
  
Heart beating fast in his chest, Jim sought out Spock. The Vulcan was back at his station, but as if he was feeling Jim's eyes on him he turned around in his chair.  
  
"All readings are within normal range, Captain. I can't explain it, but it appears that all power stations are functioning well within normal parameters and the containment field is holding up. There are no abnormal readings from within the atmosphere, either, and no signs indicating that anything has upset the force fields around the planet's core. It is…highly unusual."  
  
Spock might not be able to understand, but Jim understood perfectly. He turned around immediately so that he came to face Q.  
  
"You did that. It all wasn't real. Not a moment of this has been real."  
  
Q shrugged with a smile that was as only half as mysterious as he might think, and so inappropriate that Jim wanted to bury his fist in it.  
  
"What can I say? The Continuum frowns upon the extinction of an entire species, and I really didn't fancy all the explanations. You can't even imagine the amount of paperwork I'd have been buried in if any of this had been what you perceived it was. Though it was real, Jim, don't doubt that for a second. It was just…a different kind of real than you might be thinking about. Besides, it served its purpose, didn't it?"  
  
The earlier rage was flaring up again, stronger than it had before. And this time, Jim didn't want to hold it back.  
  
"You have exactly five seconds to give me one damn good reason how it can possibly be all right to pretend that hundreds of millions of people were about to die. And I swear, if your answer isn't pretty damn convincing, you're going to have a serious problem."  
  
Q noticed Jim's rage. There was no way anybody within the next light year couldn't notice Jim's rage. But he merely raised an eyebrow with a slight tilt of his head and then continued as if Jim hadn't said anything.  
  
"I have to admit though, you are anything but predictable, Jim. Most other species cave under that kind of pressure. Now, I don't know yet if that's an inherently human trait of if you're really an exemplary specimen, but whatever the case may be, I'm impressed. I guessed, after our first encounter, that you wouldn't cave easily. But I really thought I had given you plenty of incentive to pick one of the choices I gave you."  
  
"I told you. I make my own choices." Jim crossed his arms in front of his chest, but he wasn't too sure if it was an act born out of defiance or the desire to shield himself from everything that had happened. He felt raw and open, all his usual shields and masks torn down by the events of the past half hour, and he didn't like to be on display like this for everyone to see. Far too many thing he had wanted to keep hidden had already been laid open for all the world to see earlier, and he desperately needed to regain control, of himself as well as this situation. "I don't react well to being told what to do."  
  
"So I noticed." Q shook his head and paced a few steps, hands held behind his back. As he turned back towards Jim, he raised one of his hands and pointed a finger at Jim. "But this? Congratulations, my friend."  
  
"I'm not your friend," Jim hissed, but Q continued as if he hadn't heard.  
  
"I gave you two choices and really thought you were going to weigh them against one another. The need of the many versus the need of the few and all that. I really expected you to make what you'd perceive as the right choice, despite the cost for yourself. But that you were able to come up with a third option, and on such a short notice, is truly astounding. A plan that might just have worked, non the less. I'm impressed, Jim, and let me tell you that it doesn't happen all that often."  
  
Jim wanted to tell Q where he could stick his words, and in graphic detail, but he bit his tongue. Taking a few steps, Jim moved forward until he was right in Q's face.  
  
"I want Doctor McCoy and Ensign Chekov back aboard this ship," he said, his voice icy and sharp. "Right now."  
  
"Now Jim, I know you must still be worked up about nearly losing your dearest Bones, but surely your crewmembers can be brought up here by transporter, just like anybody else…"  
  
"Right now!" Jim saw several of his own crewmembers flinch at the tone and volume of his demand, but he didn't care. He needed to be sure, needed to finally have a solid fact to hold on to, and after all of Q's meddling, he couldn't be sure of anything anymore.  
  
"You have done nothing but play me, ever since you first showed up in my life. You made me believe those two weeks in the mental hospital were real, and you made me believe that all the people on this planet were about to die. I'm not going to believe that this is over until I see my men here on the bridge and can convince myself with my own eyes that they're all right. So get my people on this ship right now, or I swear you're going to regret that you ever started messing with me."  
  
Q rolled his eyes dramatically.  
  
"Really Jim, you need to get rid of some of that tension. It's really not good for your blood pressure."  
  
"Now!"  
  
Q rolled his eyes again, but this time it was a gesture the likes of which someone would make when giving in to a particularly annoying child's wishes. With a lot of pompous motion, he raised his hand and snipped his fingers.  
  
From one moment to the next, suddenly Bones and Chekov appeared on the Bridge. There was no sparkle of light in the place they appeared in just seconds before they did, no visible sign of transportation or the rapid reassembling of scattered atoms. One moment the two men weren't there, the next they were. Those who blinked at that moment had missed it.  
  
  
Both Bones as well as Chekov looked unharmed, if somewhat startled at the sudden change of their surroundings. Jim looked at them for a second, just _looked_ until he was convinced that his eyes weren't deceiving him. He took a deep breath that felt like the first one in a long time. There were no words to describe how relieved he was to see that the two were safe and back aboard.  
  
That _Bones_ was safe.  
  
"Keptin?"  
  
Bones had his arms crossed over his chest and his head cocked to the side, a posture Jim recognized as the one he always assumed when he was listening intently to someone. But upon Chekov's startled question – accompanied by an equally startled frown on the young Ensign's face – he uncrossed his arms and looked around the bridge in complete bewilderment. When his eyes settled on Jim, his eyebrows immediately drew together in preparation of the worst kind of glare he was able to come forth with. Jim wanted to laugh at that ridiculous feeling of relief he felt spreading through him at the sight.  
  
"Damn it Jim, give a man a warning, would you? This whole transporter business is bad enough with an advanced warning, but without it it's downright reckless. I just hope it's something important, because we were right in the middle of a tour through the science station, and in most civilized societies it's considered rude to just vanish without a damn word of warning. And since when do we beam people directly to the bridge, anyway?" His eyes finally fell onto Q, and the frown on his face deepened. "And who the hell is _that_?"  
  
Jim had to fight the irrational urge to laugh. He could listen to Bones grumble like that all day long. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to sink down in his chair and let that well-known voice wash over him as Bones complained and talked himself into one of his rants that could go on for hours. Yet another part of Jim wanted to wrap his arms around the other man and never let him go again. He wanted to bury his face against Bones' neck, breathe in his scent and tell him how much he had worried, how fucking scared he had been that he was never going to see Bones again, and that the other man wasn't allowed to leave his sight in the near future. Or ever.  
  
The urge was so strong it was hard to control it, but Jim had revealed far too many things to the entire bridge crew today already, he really didn't need to add anything to that tally. Instead he drew a breath to answer Bones' question, but was interrupted when Q suddenly took a step forward.  
  
Jim didn't even think.  
  
Q wasn't going to get anywhere near Bones. He wouldn't be in the same room as Bones if Jim had any say in it. He couldn't stop that from happening anymore, but he'd be damned if he allowed Q to mess with Bones, or even talk to him. Jim didn't even know what he was doing, and by the time he realized it, his fist was already moving beyond his ability to stop it.  
  
Maybe it was because Q was distracted. Maybe it was because he didn't expect Jim to throw a punch. Or maybe, for just this moment, Jim's absolute fury outdid any omnipotence and omniscience. Jim's fist buried itself in Q's face with a satisfying crunch of flesh, muscle and maybe even bone. Q stumbled backwards, surprise written clearly on his face as he clamped his hands over his nose.  
  
Jim's blood was rushing through his veins, blocking out all other sound but the rapid beating of his heart. In fact, the first thing that penetrated through the haze was the dry tone of Bones' voice.  
  
"I take it he's not a friend then. You want me to get my med-kit?"  
  
Jim blinked a few times in an attempt to clear his vision. The tension on the bridge was tangible again, both security officers standing close to Jim with their hands on their weapons, watching Q's every movement. Just like Jim, who didn't let the being out of his sight for just a second. He wasn't buying into Q's theatrics, the way he kept his face buried in his hands as if in great pain. And he was right, though he felt no satisfaction when Q straightened up and pinched his nose with a small grimace, as if trying to straighten it. But there was no outward sign of injury, no blood or anything else to suggest that he had just been punched right in the face.  
  
"That won't be necessary, Doctor." Q flashed Bones a smile that had something inside of Jim snarling in anger. "Jim surprised me, but I assure you that the only damage done is to my dignity."  
  
Jim laughed mirthlessly and took a step forward, trying to draw Q's attention away from Bones. He didn't care whether or not his punch had broken Q's nose or missed him entirely, he only wanted him out of his life, and for him to stop messing with the people Jim cared for.  
  
"Whatever you came here for, Q, it's over. I want you to leave my ship and never come back."  
  
"If I might make a suggestion, you should tone down on the dramatics a little. It's so much more effective if it's dealt out in small doses, you know?"  
  
"Get off my ship, Q."  
  
And really, that was all Jim cared about. He wanted Q as far away from his crew as possible.  
  
"Oh, but there is so much we still need to discuss, Jim."  
  
Jim shook his head. "No. We're done, Q. You've done enough."  
  
Q cocked his head to the side with a sly smile. "Have I now? I understand that it's been hard, Jim, but some lessons need to be as hard as possible. You only learn them when they really hurt."  
  
The beating of Jim's heart against his sternum was an almost painful cadence, and if it hadn't been so senseless to try and hurt Q physically Jim would have long since been pummeling his face in. He'd do anything if only it made that uproar inside of him stop.  
  
"I don't need your lessons, Q. Nobody made you my teacher, and nobody asked you for any of your lessons."  
  
Q shrugged, as if he couldn't care less about what Jim thought.  
  
"Doesn't change the fact that you still need to learn it. We've talked about it before, Jim. Entanglements. Emotional attachments. All those things that you say make you all so human – out here they only cause hurt and pain for everyone. The last time you only took yourself out of the equation, but this time? You put an entire civilization at risk because of your selfish desires."  
  
"I would not have let that planet die!"  
  
"But you _risked_ it, Jim! You didn't take the safe route I laid out in front of you. Of course your maneuver might have worked. But who takes that kind of risk? Someone who wants to be a hero, just like his father? Or someone who's so desperate to keep that one special person in his life alive that he's willing to risk the lives of so many others like it's nothing? If that's representative of what mankind is going to achieve in space, I do have to wonder if you really have any business being here. And your crew? They were just sitting by, blindly following where you were leading."  
  
"It's called loyalty and trust, you bastard!"  
  
Q shrugged nonchalantly. "Blind loyalty is never a good thing."  
  
Jim was breathing hard, inwardly screaming with outrage at Q's insinuations.  
  
"That kind of trust is something that has to be earned, Q. Every single day. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that."  
  
"Oh, I understand. And I understand where it's leading. Apparently, to the destruction of an entire planet, if a trusted Captain makes the wrong decision for his own, selfish reasons."  
  
"Again, nobody made you the judge of that."  
  
Q merely raised an eyebrow, and all Jim could think of was how that was a gesture that was so inherently Bones' and Spock's that it seemed like a travesty to see it on somebody else.  
  
"It's one of the burdens of omniscience, Jim. Someone has to keep the moral standards up around here. And apparently, mankind is falling short in many important aspects. Or maybe you personally are falling short, but that's two sides of the same coin, after all, since your people the ones who sent you out here as their representative. From what I've seen, I don't really feel well about the thought that your kind is out here, Jim. You all think you're such a progressive species, but all you're doing is carry your issues into space now instead of warring them out against one another. But underneath all pretense you're still the same urge-driven, volatile creatures who will always put their own needs before everything else. And that's not the best prerequisite to be out here in space under the pretense of peaceful exploration, is it?"  
  
Jim drew breath to reply, even though he was getting tired of defending his entire species in this mockery of a judgment against mankind, especially against someone who already had his mind made up. But before he could say something, Uhura's voice interrupted.  
  
"Captain, the Trelan High Council is hailing us. They seem startled by the sudden disappearance of Doctor McCoy and Ensign Chekov."  
  
Behind Jim, Bones harrumphed, and he didn't bother to keep his voice down, either.  
  
"Yeah right, _they_ are surprised. Someone ask me how surprised I was."  
  
Jim decided to ignore him for now.  
  
"Answer them, Lieutenant – audio only. Tell them that we've experienced technical difficulties, and that our crewmembers were beamed back aboard according to emergency protocol. Tell them I'm sorry if it offended them, and that I will make my personal apologies during our meeting tomorrow. If they offer their help with our problems, decline politely."  
  
Uhura nodded and turned back towards her console. "Aye Captain."  
  
When Jim turned back towards Q, he found himself facing another of those smiles that made his desire to use violence grow exponentially.  
  
"You're lying to your hosts now? Is that how the Federation is winning over new allies now?"  
  
Jim clenched his teeth so hard that he heard enamel crunch. "The only reason why I can't be truthful to them is you."  
  
Q waved him off. "Details. But of course, you're getting quite used to that form of communication, seeing that until a little while ago not a single member of your crew knew about my existence. Lies will always come back to haunt you, Jim. Not only the lies that get you out of talking someone when you don't want to. Also the lies you made up to hide how dependent you really are, and how weak you become when a single person is being taken from you. Oh, and let's not forget the lies about your true feelings. You're getting very good at all of the above, Jim."  
  
Jim had enough. He wasn't going to let Q pull him further and further into this discussion when the only purpose of it seemed to be to lay Jim's innermost secrets bare yet again, just in case someone hadn't heard it before. Which, in this case, was even true, and probably Bones' presence on the bridge was one of the reasons why Jim refused to let this go on for just a moment longer.  
  
"Enough! You've had your fun, and I've had more than enough of you. Lieutenant Phelps, put him under arrest and confine him to the brig until I've decided on what to do about him."  
  
Phelps looked less then enthused at the prospect, and in all honesty Jim didn't believe that there was the slightest chance that they were going to be able to put Q under arrest. But it was as clear a sign as he could give that this whole thing was over as far as he was concerned.  
  
Q seemed to get the drift, because he smiled knowingly at Jim.  
  
"But look at the time! As much fun as it's been, I've tarried for long enough. And I think we covered all the points on my list – emotional dependencies, entanglements, your inability to make rational decisions when emotions are involved. As an added bonus you declared your undying love for Doctor McCoy, so yes – I think we're done here."  
  
Jim swallowed, but his throat felt dry, as if he had swallowed sandpaper. He didn't dare look at Bones, or even into the other man's direction. Jim knew that there was no way Bones hadn't heard those words, but right now he couldn't deal with that particular fallout. It was all in shambles, anyway, and it was so much easier to focus on Q, and on his anger towards him, right now.  
  
"Get the hell off my ship, and don't you dare to ever come back. If you ever get anywhere near one of my crewmembers again, I swear that all your omnipotence and omniscience won't be able to save your sorry ass. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Jim felt a little better, even if there was no visible sign that any of his words had impressed Q in any way.  
  
Q gave a small bow.  
  
"It's been an honor, James Kirk. It's been an interesting experience."  
  
"The feeling's definitely not mutual."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure you'll benefit greatly somewhere along the line. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."  
  
"Stay away," Jim snarled, surprised that the growl was coming from him. Q only winked at him.  
  
"But where would be the fun in that? Rest assured that I will keep an eye out for you. After all, I have to see whether my well-meant lessons leave any impression with you. Good bye, Jim."  
  
Q's smile widened as he snipped his fingers, and suddenly he was gone. Jim didn't know what else he should have expected, but the abrupt departure left him somewhat flailing. Q was gone, and he was left behind with a chest full of anger that only waited to be unleashed and nobody to vent it out on. And in addition to that, there were all the unanswered questions Q had left, all the things Jim was going to have to explain to Spock, the Trelans, to his crew and Bones – god, what was he going to say to Bones?  
  
Jim drew a deep breath, and when that didn't help any, he drew another, more deliberate breath, his fingers curling into fists so tightly that his blunt nails were cutting into the palms of his hands. There wasn't much pain, but it was something to focus on, something else but the anger and the confusion, and the things that were going to follow soon that Jim didn't even want to think about yet.  
  
First things first.  
  
The ship. He had to take care of the ship, and the crew now. The people on this bridge had all just seen something that should by all rights be impossible, and aside from Q's little vanishing act he had also brought up a lot of things that were going to raise a string of questions in anybody who had been around to hear.  
  
Jim needed to take control now, because the last thing his crew needed right now was a Captain who seemed unsettled and emotionally compromised. Right now, he needed to be Captain, and he needed to show that he was in control. Jim and all his own doubts and worries would have to wait until later.  
  
Taking another deep breath, Jim felt ready to do just that.  
  
"Chekov, get a team together. Have someone bring you up to speed about what happened, and then I want you to go through all the logs, all the sensor readings, everything that happened on this ship ever since you and Doctor McCoy left for Trelan Prime. I want to know if about anything out of the ordinary, anything that could help us pinpoint how and when Q came aboard. Use the readings from the moment he left as comparison. I want to know if there is any way to determine when he's around. And I want to know why the sensors gave us all of those false readings about what happened down on the planet."  
  
Chekov nodded eagerly. Jim guessed that the only reason could be because he didn't yet have any idea what was being asked of him. Jim didn't make himself any delusions about finding traces of Q's presence aboard. But still, they had to try.  
  
"Good, get to work right now. Doctor McCoy, I want you to go to Ensign Valdez' quarters and take him to Medical. I want you to examine him, even if he claims he was only sleeping. Perform whatever test you can think of, but I want to know what Q did to him and I want to make sure that it has no lasting effects."  
  
Jim didn't look at Bones when he said that, because if there was one thing Jim couldn't bring himself to do right now then it was facing Bones. Not now. He was going to have to, sooner rather than later, and he had no idea how _that_ was going to go down. But not now.  
  
Bones grumbled his agreement, and a moment later the doors to the turbolift opened and closed as he left the bridge.  
  
Jim breathed a small sigh of temporary relief.  
  
Very temporary, and extremely short-lived relief.  
  
"Commander, my Ready Room."  
  
Spock nodded and immediately started walking towards the door to the Captain's Ready Room. After a second, Jim drew a deep breath and started after him.  
  
This was going to be a conversation Jim knew he had to have, but that didn't mean he was in any way looking forward to it. Not at all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**  
  
When the door of the Ready Room swishing shut behind him, cutting Jim off from the curious stares of the members of his bridge crew, it should have felt like a relief, but it didn't. It felt like a cell door slamming shut behind him, sealing his fate. Which was ridiculous.  
  
This was _Spock_ , for crying out loud.  
  
His First Officer might be Vulcan, and he might drive Jim up the wall on a regular basis, but Jim knew that if anybody aboard this ship would listen to him before he judged, if anybody was able to see the side of his story where Jim's first meeting with Q had been real and not just a drug-induced hallucination, it was Spock.  
  
At least, that was what Jim was counting on right now, because otherwise he might find himself declared insane again, only this time for real. The die had been cast, anyway. There was no way Jim was going to keep his experiences a secret for any longer.  
  
Spock walked over towards Jim's desk and stood there with his arms held behind his back. Jim drew a deep breath that helped nothing to quell the nervousness inside of him, and followed the Vulcan.  
  
"You might want to sit down. This could take a while."  
  
Spock obediently slid into one of the chairs in front of Jim's desk, and Jim sat down in the other. Right now wasn't the time to hide behind his desk and use it as a barrier between himself and his First Officer, no matter how much he might want to. It wasn't as if there were any secrets left untold, anyway. Right now, Jim didn't particularly want to be the Captain, he'd much rather have the Spock who had become a close friend over the past couple of years to be his sounding board while he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.  
  
From the corner of his eyes, Jim saw the PADD with Rand's drawing of Bones still lying on the desk's surface, pushed towards the edge when Jim had dropped it earlier. But it was still there, giving Jim a much needed boost of assurance that his story wasn't as insane as it sounded.  
  
Spock carefully folded his hands in his lap and looked straight at Jim.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
"Once we're done here, I want you to join Chekov's team and analyze the sensor data."  
  
Spock nodded. "Of course. Though of course that implies we, as you put it, _get done here_ first."  
  
Jim drew a deep breath. "Yes, there is that. I take it you gathered that this wasn't the first time I encountered Q."  
  
Spock nodded, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Indeed that was the impression I was left with. However, I do not remember reading the report about any previous encounters."  
  
"That's because I never filed one."  
  
The eyebrow which had been on the edge of being raised went up by a remarkable degree.  
  
"While I do know that you are not always keen on following protocol, Captain…"  
  
"Jim," Jim interrupted. "Right now, I'd really much rather talk to you as Jim than as your Captain."  
  
Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement.  
  
"Jim. While I know that following protocol is not always one of your priorities, I would not think you'd neglect to file a report about an encounter with an unknown and possibly hostile species."  
  
Jim sighed deeply, searching his brain for the right words to continue.  
"At the time, I didn't think it was real."  
  
Apparently, that was not enough of an explanation for Spock. He silently looked at Jim for a second, and when no answer was immediately forthcoming, the eyebrow game started up again.  
  
"I'm afraid I do not understand."  
  
"I was afraid you were going to say that." Jim drew another deep breath, his stomach in a tight knot that weighed heavily on him. "All right, this is going to sound absolutely crazy, but just hear me out, okay?"  
  
Again, Spock did that half-nod thing, and Jim realized that no amount of stalling was going to help him now. It was only pushing off the inevitable.  
  
So Jim told Spock what had happened. He started with the moment in Sickbay when he had first noticed Bones' disappearance, and strangely once he had started, the words seemed to come all on their own. It was an edited version he was giving Spock, but not because he was hesitant to mention certain things to his First Officer. Q had already taken good care to coax his most embarrassing secrets out of him in public. But there were a number of things that had no business being in this conversation, things Jim needed to talk to Bones with first before he could even think about whether or not to put them in any kind of official report.  
  
Right now, Jim was giving Spock the hard facts – Bones' disappearance, all the ways he had tried to find out what had happened to his friend, the differences he had noted in that reality that had been due to Bones' nonexistence. More reluctantly he talked about his own reaction, about how he had been relieved of command and transferred to Starfleet Medical in order to be treated for his alleged delusions.  
  
He was more detailed on Q's visit to his hospital room, and what he had revealed during their conversation about his desire to watch mankind, and the reasons why he claimed they had no business being in space.  
  
It sounded like a bad sci-fi novel to Jim's own ears, and he was the one who had lived through it. He could not even begin to imagine what it had to sound like to someone who hadn't experienced how damn real it all had been. At this moment, he was secretly glad that Spock was Vulcan. Anybody else would have probably laughed himself silly by now. But Spock merely listened silently while Jim talked, and when he was finished he regarded Jim wordlessly for a couple of seconds.  
  
But the silence got too oppressive after a few seconds, and Jim found himself fidgeting in his seat.  
  
"I know it sounds crazy."  
  
"I would not necessarily say so, Ca… _Jim_. Your account does shed some more light on the events on the bridge earlier. This Q managed to deceive our entire sensor array, after all, and managed to make it appear as if an entire civilization was about to be destroyed. In the light of that, it doesn't sound implausible that he'd also be able to deceive your perception of events in the way you described."  
  
Jim hadn't expected to feel this relieved, but the mere fact that Spock didn't immediately dismiss his story as something his mind had come up while his body had been in the throes of an anaphylactic shock felt like a huge weight that was lifted from him.  
  
"It felt so damn real, Spock. That's the worst part. You saw what happened on the bridge earlier. You believed that the planet was about to be destroyed, too. Those two weeks, or at least the parts that I was awake for, felt absolutely real. If there had been any sign that something was off, something I could have used as a starting point. But there wasn't. The only thing different was that Bones never existed, and all the people who are alive because of him were gone, too."  
  
Spock nodded. "It does sound like the perfect illusion indeed. In fact, your very presence in this scenario might have been the only clue that something about that scenario was inherently wrong."  
  
Jim's throat suddenly felt dry. "What do you mean?"  
  
Spock gave a careful shrug. "It is not in my nature to make guesses. But if every person whose life was saved due to Doctor McCoy's unique medical expertise was dead in this scenario, I'd dare say that your continued existence in such a reality was highly unlikely. Of course my medical knowledge is nowhere near sufficient to make more than an educated guess, but I remember more than one occasion in which it was Doctor McCoy's skill, insistence and sometimes sheer stubbornness that assured your survival. And while the medical staff aboard the Enterprise excels beyond Starfleet's high standards, I doubt that every of those instances when your life was in the balance could have been treated just as well by any other doctor aboard. In fact, it seems highly unlikely to me that you would have survived that infection with the Radanian parasites if Doctor McCoy hadn't come up with a way to treat it in what clearly was the very last minute."  
  
And that was something Jim didn't particularly want to think back on. Bones' treatment might have worked, but those two days of pain and hallucinations during which Bones had effectively poisoned him in order to cure him were something he'd much rather want to forget.  
  
However, Spock's words struck a chord, and Jim wanted to slap himself for not seeing it earlier. If there was one person who was alive because of Bones' knowledge and skill, one person who would have died on more than one occasion if it hadn't been for Bones, and Bones _specifically_ , then it was him.  
  
And if he had only seen it while he had been trapped in Q's illusion, then he could have called Q out on his bluff. Maybe then none of this would have happened. At least he would have spared himself two weeks of mental torture and anguish, and his innermost feelings wouldn't have been spread out for the whole bridge crew to hear, either.  
  
Spock must have seen something on his face, because one of his eyebrows went up dramatically.  
  
"However, it is quite understandable that in a situation with such a strong emotional involvement and under the influence of medication, you did not draw that conclusion. I do not think that you have any reason to berate yourself over not noticing."  
  
It didn't help Jim feel any better about not seeing this before. Not one bit. But his emotional wellbeing was not something he wanted to discuss, not with Spock and most certainly not right now.  
  
"To what end, though? Why create this elaborate illusion? Just to show me that I'm weak because I'm emotionally dependent? That one should be right up your alley, Spock."  
  
His First Officer ignored the barb, and the sharp tone of Jim's voice. Instead, he considered the question seriously for a few moments.  
  
"The most logical explanation, from the information I have now, is that this Q was trying to make an example of you, Jim. If his words are to be believed, those were amongst his first interactions with humans. To a species who has never encountered yours before, humans occasionally so seem…irrational. Maybe this was his species' attempt to gather more information about humans, and he picked you as the specimen to examine more closely."  
  
"Hell of a way to learn about humans. He could have just asked, for fuck's sake."  
  
Spock's gaze turned slightly condescending.  
  
"Not all species have the same ways of gathering information, a phenomenon you have encountered before. I do by no means agree with what he was doing, but sometimes mere curiosity is indeed the most simple explanation."  
  
Jim sank back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. "So basically, you're saying I was publicly embarrassed because Q wanted to learn more about humans. Well, thanks a lot. I feel so much better already."  
  
"In any case, it seems safe to assume that the immediate threat he posed has passed. Our priorities now should be the analysis of the data in hopes of finding any indicator that might warn us about his presence should he decide to return. And we will have to add an entry about this species into the database."  
  
Jim nodded. "Which means I'll have to file a report about our first encounter."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Good. But that can wait. For now, I want you to focus on the analysis of the sensor data."  
  
Spock nodded. "Of course. But if I may make a suggestion, you should use the upcoming gamma shift for some rest."  
  
Jim tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. He _was_ exhausted, had been for the entire day. Sleep deprivation, nightmares and the excitement of the past hour had taken their toll, and if his mind wasn't such a confused mess, he'd want nothing more than to drop into his bed and sleep for the entire night.  
  
"There's a number of things I still need to take care of."  
  
Both Vulcan eyebrows rose in silent inquiry. "We're no longer on alert, and the handover to gamma shift will take place in a matter of minutes and, with no offence to your abilities, analyzing sensor data is not within your realm of responsibility or expertise."  
  
"No, I trust Chekov and you to take care of that. But I…I feel like I should be around. What kind of impression would it make if I tuck in my tail and go hide in my quarters after I've had my most personal feelings spread out for public entertainment? No Spock, I've got to show my face, prove that Q didn't get to me."  
  
Spock did that eyebrow-thing again, only this time Jim was completely unable to tell what it was supposed to mean.  
  
"Permission to speak freely?"  
  
Jim sighed tiredly. "You know that's what I prefer."  
  
Spock deliberated for a few seconds, as if weighing his words carefully.  
  
"You don't need me to tell you that your bridge crew, in fact your entire crew, is exceptionally loyal. However, you should never underestimate the fact that they are also very perceptive. There is no denying the fact that Q's actions, in your words, _got to you_ , even if you go out there and remain on duty for the duration of gamma shift. Besides, it is no secret that you and Doctor McCoy are close. So of course any direct threat to his wellbeing was bound to upset you."  
  
Jim snorted mirthlessly. "Yeah, right. Upset me, that's a nice way to put it. I was a pathetic mess, Spock."  
  
Again, that eyebrow rose up, this time in a way Jim had learned to read as confusion.  
  
"As far as I am aware of the admittedly at times completely irrational ways of human emotions, confessing to a strong emotional connection with someone is hardly considered _pathetic_."  
  
"Damn it, Spock!" Jim slapped the table with his flat hand so hard that the PADDs on its surface bounced. "I'm the Captain. I'm responsible for the entire crew, not only for the ones I'm personally attached to! And if we're on a mission, I'm not supposed to make distinctions between my crew based on personal likes or dislikes. But that's exactly what I did earlier. Worse, it's what they all saw me do. They saw me hesitate because it was Bones Q was threatening. They saw me order a risky maneuver instead of taking the safe route, because the safe route would have endangered Bones' life. They heard me talk about feelings that didn't have any damn business being discussed on the bridge, or on duty at all. But that's _exactly_ what happened, and that means I have to get the hell our there and be the Captain, before just one of them starts thinking that I'm too weak to do my damn job!"  
  
Spock seemed unfazed by Jim's outburst, which would normally only serve to fuel Jim's anger and frustration. Right now, however, he only felt drained and – if he was honest with himself, even if that meant agreeing with Spock – exhausted. His First Officer regarded him for a few long moments, then he canted his head to the side.  
  
"With all due respect, I think your perception is wrong Jim. What the crew saw today was a Captain who refused to make the easy choice laid before him because that choice was going to cost innocent lives. And I believe that seeing how their Captain was willing to face the odds in order to save two crewmembers if anything merely strengthened their loyalty towards you. I've spent much time studying the members of this crew over the past two years, and I can assure you that it is my opinion most of them prefer to serve under a Captain who is neither unapproachable nor uncaring, no matter the possible flaws of character such traits might go along with. In fact, I have observed that it is in fact good for crew morale."  
  
Jim sat silently, taking his time to pick that sentence apart because he wasn't sure he had heard right.  
  
"Did you just say that it's a good thing if a Captain is only human?"  
  
Spock gave a small shrug.  
  
"I never said otherwise, for that would mean I'd negate the authority of any human Captain, including my Commanding Officer. Otherwise, it would be highly illogical for me to accept orders from a human Captain."  
  
Jim could have sworn there was a flash of amusement in Spock's eyes as he said that, if such a thing hadn't been impossible.  
  
"Six hours," he finally gave in. "I'm going to grab six hours of sleep, then I'll take over again."  
  
Spock inclined his head. "A compromise I can agree to."  
  
Jim nodded and got up from his chair, Spock following suit. They made their way back to the bridge, and immediately Jim felt all eyes turn towards him. It was nothing unusual, in fact it occurred every time he came to the bridge that most eyes turned towards him, if only for a moment. But right now he was too exhausted and unsettled to analyze whether or not the quality of those looks was any different than it normally was.  
  
"Commander, the bridge is yours."  
  
"Aye Captain."  
  
Jim turned towards the turbolift as Spock addressed the assembled crew.  
  
"Shift turnover in ten minutes. Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura, you'll remain on duty for gamma shift."  
  
"Aye, Sir." Two voices answered in unison.  
  
"Lieutenant Sulu, you have the conn. I will assist Ensign Chekov with the analysis of the sensor data."  
  
"Aye, Sir" Sulu repeated, and Jim breathed a small sigh of relief when the lift doors closed in front of him. Which was a clear sign that something was wrong, because Jim loved being Captain. He shouldn't feel relieved by getting away from the bridge.  
  
It was food for thought, albeit it would have to wait until there was room for it in his head. Right now, it wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities. Getting some rest was, though the six hours he had promised Spock were probably utopian. He hadn't gotten a straight six hours of sleep since Q had first shown up in his life. But something between three and four hours should give him enough of a boost to make it through the next shift without keeling over, and that would have to do.  
  
The corridors were empty as Jim made his way towards his quarters, and he had never been more glad for the relative solitude of the senior officer's quarters. Arriving at his door, he keyed in his personal code with his mind already enjoying the thought of a long hot shower before he'd even attempt getting some sleep.  
  
The first thing he noticed was that the lights were on. As he was still wondering if he had really forgotten to turn them off in the morning, and why the computer hadn't automatically switched them off, when a voice greeted him.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
Heart suddenly beating fast in his chest, Jim turned towards the source of the voice, although he didn't need visual confirmation to know exactly what he was going to see.  
  
Bones was sitting on the sofa in Jim's small sitting area. He was still in uniform, with his arms crossed in front of his chest, and he didn't look happy. At all."Bones."  
  
Jim didn't know what else he could possibly say. Bones being here in his quarters totally blindsighted him, and he had no clue what to do about it now. After what had happened earlier, an uncomfortable confrontation with the other man had been unavoidable, but he had hoped to have more time to get his bearings back before then.  
  
If only he had some time to think about it, maybe he'd be able to find an explanation that didn't make him look like a lovesick idiot. And – more importantly – one that wouldn't ruin their friendship.  
  
Considering his luck over the past days, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he wasn't even granted that small mercy.  
  
And judged by the look on Bones' face, the other man wanted some answers that Jim probably wasn't willing to give him. So Jim did the only thing he could thing of – he tried to deflect the situation with humor.  
  
"You do know that this constitutes an abuse of your medical override code, right?"  
  
Bones didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. Instead, he only shook his head slightly.  
  
"I've never needed a medical override code to get into your quarters, and you know it."  
  
He had a point there. Ever since their time at the Academy, the codes for their respective doors had not been a secret between them. And before this day, that had never been a problem for Jim. He sighed and sank down in an armchair so that he was facing the other man.  
  
"It's been a long day, Bones. I'm beat. So whatever it is, can't it wait until tomorrow?"  
  
But Bones only shook his head. "No, it can't."  
  
No small mercies at all, then. He should have known.  
  
"How is crewman Valdez?"  
  
"He's doing fine, and you know damn well that I would have alerted you immediately had it been any different. I've put him under twelve-hour observation, but other than complete embarrassment because he slept while he should have been on duty, he's perfectly fine. And if you think you're smooth about changing the topic, you got another thing coming."  
  
Jim sank back in the chair, pressing his fingers hard against his eyes. His body and brain were in that dangerous zone somewhere between adrenaline-fueled alert and bone-deep fatigue, a state in which it was so incredibly hard to form just a single clear thought. This conversation hadn't even started yet, but it was already heading straight towards disaster. Yet all Jim could do was sit by and watch the flashing warning signs in his mind pass by. If Bones had it in his head that they were going to talk about this now, he wasn't going to get out of this conversation without doing even more damage.  
  
"So what do you want to talk about?"  
  
Bones shook his head as if Jim was the biggest idiot he had ever been forced to interact with.  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Why don't we talk about my day a little for starters? Because trust me, it was very exciting. This morning, I left for Trelan Prime because the Trelans were kind enough to give Chekov and me a little tour through one of their research facilities. And it was interesting, it really was. Lots of fascinating things and technologies they have there, too. I would have loved to see more of that, but all of a sudden I was beamed back to Enterprise without a damn word of warning. And once my atoms had reassembled right in the middle of the bridge, there was an intruder on board, the ship was on red alert, everyone was looking as if they had just seen a ghost and you _lost_ it, Jim. I've seen you in plenty of moods, but damn it, I've never seen you freak out like that. So make your pick, Jim – let's talk about any of the above. Though I have to warn you, if the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with the tour through the research facility, I'm going to punch you."  
  
Jim swallowed, suddenly wishing that he had taken the time to get himself something to drink before sitting down. A coffee, or better even yet a beer. Or a whiskey. Whiskey sounded really good right now.  
  
"It's a long story."  
  
"I got time. Valdez is not going anywhere, and for once the rest of the crew didn't manage to mutilate themselves. Sickbay is empty, I'm off shift and I'm not leaving until I got some damn answers. So how about you start with tell me who that freak on the bridge was."  
  
Step by step. Jim could do that.  
  
"His name is Q. He's…well, he claims that he's part of an omniscient and omnipotent species."  
  
Bones' right eyebrow rose a notch, and Jim felt himself eerily reminded of his earlier conversation with Spock. Not that he'd ever tell either of the other two men that there were some creepy similarities between them at times. He preferred his body parts fully functional and attached right where they were.  
  
"And this omnipotent and omniscient Q just decided to drop by for a little visit that had you raise the red alert. You're not the only certified genius aboard this ship, Jim, besides of which it doesn't even take higher-than-average intelligence to figure out that it wasn't the first time you two met. The way he kept mentioning your previous encounters was a dead giveaway. Now I know that there's stuff I'm not being told because I'm not part of the command crew, but just this once I want to hear the full truth."  
  
Jim shook his head. "It has nothing to do with questions of clearance."  
  
That eyebrow rose even higher. "Then what?"  
  
"I never told anyone about my first encounter with Q. Didn't file an official report, either."  
  
That statement was followed by a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence. Jim didn't know what to make of that reaction, when suddenly and without advance warning, Bones slapped his palm down on Jim's Starfleet Standard Issue coffee table, his face clouded in anger.  
  
"Of course you didn't! Because why would you file a report about encountering an unknown and possibly hostile species? Anybody else maybe, but not you! And of course it's not necessary that you get yourself examined after such an encounter, because what could possibly go wrong, right? After all, nobody ever gets sick from meeting a new species. Alien viruses, new bacteria which we don't have any medications against, all that is just rumors spread by Starfleet Medical so that you succumb to totally unnecessary post-mission examinations because I need something to do. Damn it, Jim! I thought after two years in space you knew better!"  
  
Jim silently sat through the outburst. He had earned it, he thought. But back when he had woken up from his Q-induced nightmare, the last thing on his mind had been telling Bones everything that had happened so that he could check him over. Besides, at that time he had been hooked up to most of the equipment in Sickbay anyway. It wasn't as if anything Q might have done to him would have gone unnoticed.  
  
"When did it happen?"  
  
The look in Bones eyes said clearly that he was this close to whipping out his tricorder and having Jim committed to Sickbay.  
  
"Nine weeks ago."  
  
Bones was silent for a few moments, but as he had pointed out earlier – he wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to make the connection.  
  
"You had the reaction to the vaccine against Tellarian Fever nine weeks ago."  
  
Jim nodded. "So you remember that."  
  
Bones laughed without any real mirth behind it. "You going into anaphylactic shock so bad that your heart stopped for over three minutes? Yeah, I do remember that, Jim."  
  
Jim drew breath to say something, but Bones didn't even give him a chance to get a word in.  
  
"You were aboard the entire time back then. That mission to the Nubirian colony was the first time you were supposed to leave the ship in a week. When did you manage to meet this Q while you were stuck on Enterprise? Did he come aboard and nobody noticed or what?"  
  
"In a way."  
  
"Jim." It was the kind of voice Bones used when he was running out of patience, Jim knew that. But it was just so hard to even find a starting point to telling what had happened, much harder than it had been to give Spock the hard facts earlier on.  
  
"If you don't start talking soon, I swear I'm going to put you on medical leave and have you confined to Sickbay until you do."  
  
Jim sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"I…This is going to sound crazy, okay? I know that it sounds crazy, and if it hadn't happened to me, I probably wouldn't believe a word of it either. And I know you'll be itching to whip out your tricorder and scan me for head injuries before I'm even halfway through this, but just let me finish, okay?"  
  
Bones nodded, somewhat hesitantly, but he did. It was all Jim could ask for in this situation, he guessed. He didn't have any idea how the hell he was supposed to go through this. That stroke of genius he had been hoping for, the one that was going to allow him to explain everything that had happened away in a harmless way, hadn't come to him, either.  
  
He would have to do what he always did – he'd have to wing it, and hope that it didn't blow up in his face. He simply couldn't shake the feeling that this time, there was a lot more at stake than he was willing to risk.  
  
"It all started with that vaccination. I went down to Medical, and when M'Benga came to give me the injection, I asked where you were."  
  
"I was treating Ensign Rogers…"  
  
"No. Let me finish this, Bones."  
  
The other man drew back a little, obviously startled. "Okay."  
  
"I asked M'Benga for you, and he acted like he didn't know who I was talking about. At first I thought he was pulling my leg, but he kept it up beyond anything that might have been funny. He kept telling me that he was my CMO, and that he had never even heard your name. I checked the computer, and there was no record of you serving aboard, or even being a member of Starfleet. When I kept insisting that you should be there, M'Benga sedated and examined me, but didn't find anything physically wrong."  
  
Bones was shaking his head, brows furrowed in disbelief.  
  
"That doesn't make sense."  
  
"Of course it doesn't. I told you that you wouldn't believe me. But it's what happened. M'Benga had never heard of you. Spock had never heard of you. Starfleet had no record of you, at all. None. And not only Starfleet, Bones. I don't remember having a reaction to the vaccine, only that M'Benga knocked me out because he thought I was delusional. And once I was allowed to leave Medical, I did everything I could think of to find you, but it really was as if you had never existed. There was no birth record, no school or college records, nothing. By all accounts, your parents never had a child. No Leonard H. McCoy ever went to school in Georgia, or anywhere else in the world, and nobody by that name ever studied medicine, either. Your marriage didn't happen, and Jocelyn had never even heard of you."  
  
Hazel eyes grew wide, and Bones forgot all about Jim's request to keep silent during his recount of the tale.  
  
"You talked to Jocelyn?"  
  
"Well, for about two minutes or so before she shut down the connection. Barely enough for her to tell me that she had never heard of you before she hung up on me and filed an official complaint against me for harassment. But…Bones, it went so much further than that. It wasn't just that _you_ weren't there, though that was bad enough. All the people who lived because of you, so many patients you saved, they were all gone. Pike was dead. A dozen crewmembers weren't alive anymore. And…you never married Jocelyn, so Joanna didn't exist either."  
  
Bones' eyes widened, pain and shock clear and unhidden in his gaze as his lips formed his daughter's name. Jim knew how much it had to hurt him that there could be a reality without his little girl in it. He continued quickly, before the courage to go on left him.  
  
"It was a nightmare, but one I couldn't wake up from. You didn't exist, but I had all those vivid memories of you. I knew you were real, but everybody else thought I was crazy. And I…I just couldn't pretend otherwise, Bones. I couldn't pretend that all was well when I knew that you were supposed to be there but weren't, and nobody even knew that you were missing. So when I kept insisting that you were real, M'Benga took me off duty."  
  
It hadn't been real, yet still it hurt to talk about these days of helplessness when he had seen everything he cared about being torn away from him.  
  
"They claimed I was delusional, and the more I kept insisting that you were real, the more they convinced themselves that I was about to crack. M'Benga examined me again and again, and when nothing helped and I still insisted you were real, they…they sedated me. They tied me down, for crying out loud, because they said I was a danger to myself and others, and that I was having episodes. M'Benga didn't know what to do about it, so Spock had Enterprise return to earth and they transferred me to Starfleet Medical. They put me into the psych ward, Bones. More medication, more examinations, just different doctors."  
  
Bones was shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jim could relate to the feeling, and the only thing that comforted him a little was how wide Bones' eyes had become when he mentioned being tied down. Jim knew that Bones would never allow for that to happen. It was a small comfort, but a comfort nevertheless.  
  
A small boost that helped Jim keep talking.  
  
"Two weeks. For two weeks I lived like that. I was the only one who remembered you, and everyone thought I was crazy because I refused to accept that you were just a figment of my imagination. And…I was nearly convinced that they might be right. That's when Q first showed up."  
  
It was easier when he didn't have to look into Bones' eyes, Jim realized. The words were pressing against his lips as if they were dying to get out, but it worked so much better when he didn't have to look into Bones' eyes and face his immediate reaction to what he said.  
  
"He did all that, Bones. Q altered reality. He simply erased any trace of you, just as if you had never even existed. It was…I've never been so angry before in my entire life. And at the same time, when he admitted that he had done this and I knew that I wasn't going crazy – it was such a relief. But Q refused to bring you back. He said that it was a lesson I needed to learn, one about humans and how emotionally dependent we are. He said I was the best example that they make us weak, but that we're too selfish to see it. It was…god, I was still half drugged up and what he said was so crazy that it was hard to realize what he was trying to say. I was just so angry, and all I could think of was that if he had taken you away, he could also bring you back. I think I lost it, I don't remember really. All I know is that they sedated me again, and the next thing I know is that I woke up in Sickbay. All of a sudden it was the day I got that vaccination again, and you were back, just as if nothing had happened. Just as if it all hadn't even been real."  
  
Jim did look up then, just a fleeting glance, but it was enough to see the look of understanding cross Bones' face.  
  
"Well, that explains a lot."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like the way you were clinging to me after you woke up."  
  
Jim rubbed his hands over his face, wanting nothing more than to forget the last couple of weeks had even happened. He didn't want to rehash that particularly embarrassing moment in Sickbay any further.  
  
"It was a nightmare. And I…I wasn't really coherent. All I knew was that you had been gone, and suddenly you were back. I wasn't thinking straight."  
  
"You don't need to apologize, Jim."  
  
But Jim felt like he had to, even though he couldn't have explained why. His reaction in Sickbay had been completely over the top, even if at the time it had been the only possible way for him to react.   
  
"When you told me about the allergic reaction to the vaccine, it was so easy to explain everything away as something my brain came up with when my heart stopped. Everything was back to normal, after all. Nothing had happened, and I thought it had all just been in my head. And because everything was back to normal, I went back to normal. It was…weird. Completely fucked up, at first. But nothing else happened, and I really believed that it had all just been my imagination. Until today."  
  
"Because Q showed up again."  
  
Jim nodded. "Yeah."  
  
Jim heard the creak of the sofa, and knew without looking that Bones had leaned forward and was watching him intently.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Jim bit his lip hard, but he barely noticed the pain.  
  
"He created another scenario for me, only this time he involved the whole crew. He made it seem as if the planet's protective field was about to fail."  
  
"There was no malfunction of anything while we were down there."  
  
Jim nodded. "I know. But all our sensors said differently. According to our readings, everyone on that planet was going to die within minutes. The only way to stop that was to take out the power station that had failed, but that would have killed everyone in the research facility sitting atop of it."  
  
Bones leaned back again, one hand buried in his hair as he took in Jim's words.  
  
"The facility where Chekov and I were."  
  
Jim nodded.  
  
"As well as over two hundred other people, yes. It was…after he revealed himself, Q said that firing at the station was the only choice to save the entire planet, and that he knew I couldn't make that choice because you were down there. It was the same thing he said in our earlier encounter – that my emotional connection to you was making me weak, and stopped me from making the right choice. Q seems to think he can take me as an example of mankind as a whole, and he seems on a mission to prove that we have too many weaknesses to be out here in space. So he set this up to prove that he was right."  
  
"He thought you were going to sacrifice hundreds of millions of lives to save me?"  
  
Jim shrugged. "Apparently."  
  
"Well, then he's an idiot who doesn't know what the hell he's talking about."  
  
But Jim knew that it wasn't explained away so easily. He _had_ hesitated, despite all the training he had undergone in order to be able to make such a decision when it came down to it. And one reason for that hesitation had been Bones. So it wasn't as if Q had been entirely wrong.  
  
"But I didn't give the order, Bones. I didn't take out that power station and made sure that the planet was safe."  
  
Bones' face, when Jim looked up at him, was unreadable, but it was obvious that he was considering Jim's words seriously.  
  
"I'm willing to bet everything I own that you didn't just stand by and watched how the planet slid into destruction, either."  
  
Bones did that, probably without consciously noticing it. But those small votes of confidence, strewn so causally into conversations as if they weren't worth any special attention, meant more to Jim than he was willing to admit openly.  
  
"I tried to figure out a way to get a warning through to the planet before it was too late. Q told me that I had to pick one of the choices he had laid out for me, but I told him to go screw himself. When it became clear that I wasn't going to play his game, he turned everything back the way it was supposed to, and brought Chekov and you back on board. Well, you know the rest."  
  
There, it was out. Now Bones knew what had happened, and Jim could only hope and pray that it was going to be enough for now.  
  
It wasn't.  
  
He really should have known.  
  
"So he faced you with a choice you didn't want to make, and in your usual charming way you told him to stick it where the sun don't shine."  
  
Jim nodded.  
  
"Something like this. But the damage is done. Q made a fool of me in front of my own damn crew. He made it seem that I was willing to risk all their lives at any point if it was going to save yours, and nothing I said or did can undo that impression. And the thing that really drives me up the wall is that I could make the choice. Of course I could, otherwise I'd have no place on that bridge. I wouldn't like it, but I could make it. But not under these conditions. Not when it's just part of some omnipotent creep's game, when I know exactly that he could undo it with just a snap of his fingers. I'm not going to sacrifice anyone for that. But Q twisted it so that it seems I refused to give that order because I was unwilling to sacrifice you."  
  
Bones looked at Jim, until the intensity of the gaze was too much and he looked away.  
  
"Somehow, I can't believe that you didn't spell that out clear and plain for everybody on the bridge to hear."  
  
The tension behind Jim's eyes was slowly approaching headache levels.  
  
"I did. Of course I did. But still. Q, he played me Bones. He knew each of my weaknesses, and he pushed all my buttons to provoke just the reaction he wanted from me."  
  
Bones sighed, the fingers of one hand drumming a rhythm against the back of the other. Jim had to look away. Those skilled, long-fingered hands had always fascinated him, but right now he really had to keep it together and couldn't allow himself to let his mind stray down that particular road.  
  
"It's no real surprise that he knew how to push you, not if he's really omniscient."  
  
Jim knew all that. _Rationally_ , he knew that Q had deliberately played his weaknesses, and that his crew was going to weigh his word over that of a scheming, half-crazed alien any day. Rationally he knew that the fallout from this encounter with Q wasn't going to be professional. But knowing something rationally and feeling it were two different things entirely, something Jim had never before felt as vividly as he did now.  
  
He was just too tired to think about it all right now. He didn't like to admit it, but Spock had been right in his assessment that he needed rest.  
  
"That's all," he said with a tired sigh. "That's the rundown on what happened today, and the first time I met Q. You can read all the details in my report if you want, but right now I'm just too damn tired."  
  
Bones looked at Jim, but he didn't get up from the sofa like Jim had hoped he would. Instead he seemed to sink further into the cushions, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger.  
  
"There's just one thing I need to know which I doubt will even make it into your official report."  
  
Jim would have raised an eyebrow if he had been able to pull that movement off like Bones could.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Between raising the alarm and getting into a verbal sparring match with an omniscient and omnipotent alien about whether or not mankind is supposed to be in space, and in how far you're the shining example of our species, between all the alarm klaxons and the decision whether or not to fire onto a civilian research station, at which point in that fracas exactly did you, and I quote, _confess your undying love for me?_ "  
  
It felt like a physical blow, one that went well below the belt. So Bones had heard. Of course he had, and of course he would not let that go unmentioned between them. That neither surprised Jim, nor was that the reason why Bones' words hit him so hard.  
  
It was the tone in which he said it, just as if that confession and not everything else that had happened had been the reason why he was here in Jim's quarters now. Bones sounded angry and disappointed, and of all the reactions Jim had envisioned should his feelings for his best friend ever come to light, this had been the one he had been most afraid of.  
  
Jim didn't know what good any kind of damage control would still do at this point, but he simply had to try.  
  
"Listen, I understand that you're angry…"  
  
"No Jim, I don't think you understand at all why I'm angry right now."  
  
Bones got up from the sofa, and for a moment Jim thought he was going to storm out of his quarters without another word. But Bones didn't leave. Instead he started pacing in the narrow space in front of the sofa, from left to right and back again before he stopped and looked down at Jim.  
  
"Was he lying?"  
  
"What?" Jim croaked out.  
  
"Was Q lying about what you said?"  
  
Jim's heart was beating so fast and hard in his chest that he thought Bones had to hear it, too.  
  
"It weren't my exact words, no."  
  
"But it was what you meant."  
  
Jim could have denied it then. His first instinct was to do exactly that. But even as his brain decided that denial was the way to go, his mouth seemed to have other ideas entirely.  
  
"Yes."  
  
It was hoarse and barely above a whisper, but it was clearly audible. Jim didn't want to look, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Bones' face as his answer sunk in. He stared at Jim for a long moment, and unconsciously took a step back as if to create physical distance between them.  
  
Jim didn't want to be here anymore. He only wanted to get out, wanted to go somewhere and hide until this whole thing was over and forgotten.  
  
Judged by the look on Bones' face, that wasn't going to happen in the foreseeable future.  
At least now it was out there. Jim had often imagined what it would feel like to finally admit to what he was feeling. He had never imagined he'd feel like throwing up immediately after finally making that confession, and in all honesty he would have hoped Bones was going to be more enthusiastic about the whole thing than he seemed to be now.  
  
Not that whatever Bones might be thinking was easily readable.  
  
"Damn it, Jim."  
  
And that right there could mean pretty much anything.  
  
"Bones, I…"  
  
"And you didn't think I had a right to know?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Bones threw his hands in the air for emphasis, and Jim could no longer stand to keep sitting there while the other man stood and paced in front of him. And Bones had no right to go all righteous and angry at him. Jim had held it together over the past months, and he hadn't allowed his feelings for Bones to shine through, no matter how hard that had been at times. So Bones had no right to blow up at him like that now, not when Jim was the one who had every right to be absolutely angry and pissed off.  
  
He got up from his seat and answered Bones' angry stare with one of his own.  
  
"Oh, and what was I supposed to say? Besides, it's nobody's damn business but my own, and just because some bored alien had nothing better to do than reveal my innermost secrets to the whole damn bridge crew doesn't mean anybody has a _right_ to know anything!"  
  
"But that's exactly the point!" Bones raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "Apparently _everybody_ knew by the time I came back to the ship. Including that crazy-ass alien. And if it hadn't been for that meddling son of a bitch, I still wouldn't have a damn clue. For crying out loud Jim, what did you think I was gonna do if you told me that you'd rather wait for a bastard like Q to make this the whole ship's business instead of just telling me?"  
  
"Well, it's not exactly as if it was all that easy, okay? In case you hadn't noticed, you're not exactly the cuddly emotional type who likes to talk about feelings."  
  
Jim didn't know why he was yelling right back at Bones, but it was so much easier than to take a step back and think about it rationally. Yelling he could deal with, it was everything else he was scared of.  
  
But as if Bones knew that anger had always been an easy refuge for Jim, he sighed, and the anger seemed to evaporate. It was as if he deflated right in front of Jim's eyes, and his voice held none of its previous acridity when he spoke again.  
  
"Just tell me one thing, Jim. If it hadn't been for Q, would you have lost a single word about any of this?"  
  
Jim didn't know what to do about the sudden shift in mood. But he had been telling the truth so far, and it wasn't as if he had anything left to lose, other than maybe his dignity. He could as well stick to the truth and hope for the best.  
  
"Probably not, no."  
  
Bones nodded with a sigh, his left eye twitching slightly like it always did when he was frustrated.   
  
"Yeah, I thought as much."  
  
But Jim no longer understood what the hell they were still talking about.  
  
"So what, you're pissed at me because I didn't tell you, and not because I…well, you know." It was ridiculous that he couldn't even bring himself to say it when he had all but yelled it across the entire bridge just a few hours ago. He waved his hand in a gesture that ended up being far more helpless than he had intended. Bones only rolled his eyes at him.  
  
"Don't be an idiot, Jim. And don't try to change the topic, damn it."  
  
"Then please tell me what we're still talking about? Because I have no fucking clue anymore, Bones."  
  
Bones cocked his head to the side slightly, and for a moment Jim saw the doctor shine through the harsh glare that was still in his eyes. He probably looked just as exhausted as he felt by now, and if there was one thing Bones had always been acutely attuned to, then it was Jim's wellbeing.  
  
"We're talking about the fact that you wouldn't have said a fucking thing about any of this if it hadn't been for an alien on a power trip. That's what we're talking about, Jim. Nothing I heard today was anything you would have told me on your own if you had the choice."  
  
He had a point there, Jim guessed. Without Q's interference, Jim wouldn't have said anything about his feelings for Bones for a long time. Probably not ever.  
  
"So what do you want from me? What am I supposed to say?"  
  
"I don't know, Jim. I'm not asking for an explanation. Just…damn it, I'm not asking for anything at all. I just wish I would have heard this from you, and not from some bastard of an alien after he already informed the entire bridge crew about it."  
  
Jim didn't know what he could possibly say to that. There was no way to take back how Bones had learned about Jim's feelings. It had happened, and he couldn't change anything about it. Bones was right, though. It wasn't something you wanted to hear from a complete stranger with unclear intentions.  
  
"I can't take back what Q said, though."  
  
Bones shook his head wearily. "No."  
  
"It's not like I asked for any of this, you know? I didn't ask to become Q's favorite target, and I didn't ask to fall in love with my best friend. It's not as if I had chosen any of this."  
  
"I know that, Jim."  
  
Bones sounded as weary as he looked, but Jim wasn't ready to stop.  
  
"I didn't want this to become an issue, okay? You're right, you should have heard it from me. But damn it, I thought I'd better keep quiet about it than let it ruin our friendship. I was dealing with it, but then Q came and took you away. That's when it all got fucked up. You have no idea what it's like to have someone torn away just like that. Even after Q changed it all back, how was I supposed to know that he wasn't going to show up and do the same thing all over? You want me to tell you something nobody else knows? It fucking _terrified_ me. It still does. Q can do whatever he wants, and I'm absolutely powerless to stop him. And that thought scares me so much it doesn't let me sleep at night. You want to know something else? The first thing I do every morning, before I even get out of bed, is to have the computer check your location. And every morning I'm scared it's going to tell me that there is nobody by that name aboard. So, now you know."  
  
And really, how much worse could it possibly get? Even if Bones walked out on him now, at least that would be something definite he could deal with. Or learn to deal with, in any case.  
But Bones didn't walk out. He rubbed his hands over his face with a tired sigh, then he shook his head with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  
  
"God, but we're a pathetic mess, aren't we?"  
  
Jim couldn't help but give a small smile, as well.  
  
"I'd say we pretty much earn an award for it."  
  
But it was just a small moment of levity, nothing that would have alleviated the tension that was still hanging over the room. Jim was still astonished that Bones hadn't freaked out at him for this whole mess, not yet at least. But damned if he knew where their conversation was about to be headed.  
  
"So, what now?"  
  
Bones shrugged, at the same time shaking his head.  
  
"Damn if I know, kid. You look like you could use some sleep."  
  
"You sound like Spock."  
  
"Now that was uncalled for."  
  
But not even the easy banter managed to relax Jim like it normally did. He rubbed a hand over his neck.  
  
"I guess I should try to get a few hours of sleep."  
  
Bones snorted. " _A few hours_ my ass. You need a solid night of sleep, Jim."  
  
"Yeah, sleep is a bit of a touchy subject right now."  
  
Something flittered across Bones' gaze for a second, and though it was gone quickly it softened his expression remarkably.  
  
"I could help you with that."  
  
Jim was shaking his head even before Bones finished speaking.  
  
"No sedatives, Bones. They make me fuzzy for the entire day."  
  
"I wasn't talking about medicating you."  
  
And that was a first in their history. Really. A first.  
  
"Then what were you talking about?"  
  
Bones shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. But then he drew a deep breath, squaring his shoulders much like a parachutist steeling himself before the leap from the shuttle.  
  
"I could stick around. Then you wouldn't have to worry about whether or not I'm gonna vanish over night. You'd know."  
  
His accent was getting thicker, and something tightened in Jim's gut at the sound.  
  
"The couch is uncomfortable," Jim offered, breath catching in his throat as Bones took a step closer, right into his personal space. He was so close that Jim could feel the warmth of his body. Close enough to touch if Jim only stretched out his hand…  
  
"I wasn't talking about the couch."  
  
Time seemed to stretch as those words hung in the air between them. Jim's brain was desperately trying to process what he had just heard, but he was coming up empty.  
  
"Bones?"  
  
Up this close, the eye-roll that response received had epic proportions.  
  
"Seriously Jim, Starfleet needs to reconsider their aptitude tests, because right now I have serious doubts whether you really are as brilliant as your test results say you are."  
  
And Jim couldn't help it, he laughed.  
  
"Verbal abuse? You seriously think that's a way to charm yourself into my bed?"  
  
Bones shrugged, though a smile was playing around the corners of his mouth.  
  
"I didn't think I'd have to bring out the heavy artillery, seeing how you already confessed your undying love for me for the whole bridge to hear."  
  
And unlike the previous time, this time hearing those words from Bones didn't hurt. Although they stirred up a big confused mess in the general vicinity of Jim's stomach. But he couldn't help drawing closer to the gravitational force that was Leonard H. McCoy.  
  
"I didn't say _undying_."  
  
The small smile on Bones' face turned into a wide smirk.  
  
"I sure hope it was implied."  
  
And then Bones' lips were on his, and even though Jim didn't remember moving, his hands were on Bones' shoulders and he was pulling him closer.  
  
As far as first kisses went, this one wasn't a mind-shattering revelation. Time didn't stop, the universe kept on doing its thing, and there was no string quartet playing romantic love songs in Jim's head. The kiss was almost chaste, yet so infinitely tender that he asked himself how he could have lived without this for so long. It didn't open up floodgates of passion, not when Jim was so exhausted that he was barely keeping himself on his feet. But it felt so easy and comfortable, like coming home after a long and exhausting day. It felt right, to have Bones in his arms like this, his hand warm against the back of Jim's neck while the other held Jim close by the hip. Bones' lips were soft and warm against his, and Jim thought he could spend the whole night like this.  
  
They broke apart again all too soon for Jim's liking, but Bones' hands remained right where they were, and Jim tiredly leaned his forehead against the other man's shoulder.  
  
"It sure was implied," he finished a train of thought the beginning of which he couldn't even remember. Bones chuckled throatily, his breath gushing warmly over Jim's neck.  
  
"You needn't have worried about telling me, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, I get that now." Jim mumbled against the blue fabric of Bones' shirt.  
  
"Good. Everything else can wait. You need sleep now."  
  
Jim nodded, although he wasn't too sure that he'd be ale to tear himself away from Bones, even if it was just to get over towards the bed.  
  
"Come on, let's get you into bed."  
  
Jim chuckled. "It's probably the first time I say that, but I'm too tired for sex."  
  
"Well good, because I'm not particularly keen on having you fall asleep on me halfway through it, either. Come on."  
  
He gave Jim a gentle push, and despite his fatigue he had to admit that the distance to the bed wasn't that far. Jim tiredly stumbled the few steps, pulling his shirt over his head as he went. He shrugged out of pants and boots, but only as he stretched out on the bed in his boxers and Bones sat down beside him did the reality of the situation catch up with him.  
  
This was really happening.  
  
Jim had often imagined what it would be like if he finally found the courage to tell Bones how he felt, and if those feelings were reciprocated. Mostly, those fantasies had ended in passionate sex – and more often than not in Jim making a renewed acquaintance with his right hand. Never once had he contemplated that the night would end with him being too tired to do anything but curl up around Bones and fall asleep.  
  
Though it didn't feel like something was missing, not for now. Bones was warm against him as his arms wrapped around Jim and pulled him in tight. And there was no discomfort, none of that feeling that sometimes came with spending the first night with someone. It was the kind of ease that came from years of friendship, a love of its own kind, and as soon as they settled down Jim got the feeling that restful sleep wasn't going to be a problem tonight.  
  
With a smile, Jim watched as Bones settled in bed beside him, and he couldn't resist the urge to draw him in for another kiss.  
  
"Computer, turn off lights."  
  
The room turned dark around them, and with a sigh Jim let his head drop onto Bones' chest, listening to the steady heartbeat beneath his ear as Bones' hand settled in his hair, as if to carefully hold him in place.  
  
"I wonder if he had a point."  
  
"What?"  
  
Bones' voice was a gentle rumble against the his cheek, and Jim brought up a hand to rest it against the other man's chest.  
  
"Q. He had a point, somehow. That it was you on that planet did influence how I reacted. And it's not just me. I mean, I'd never repeat it in front of Spock, but sometimes emotions get in the way, and lead to the wrong choices."  
  
Bones shifted beneath him, and his grip on Jim's hair tightened momentarily.  
  
"So what, you suddenly think we shouldn't be in space because some asshole pointed out that humans have weaknesses? Are you sure he didn't screw with your mind?"  
  
"I don't mean we shouldn't be up here at all. Just that he might have a point about how sometimes we're making things worse up here instead of better. I'm serious, Bones."  
  
"So am I." Jim couldn't see it in the dark, but he was sure that Bones was scowling. "Humans have weaknesses. Well, newsflash Jim – everyone does. Humans have too many emotions, Vulcans don't have enough, Andorians are all-around annoying little buggers, and don't get me started on the Klingons, because they have some serious anger management issues. Every species has their issues, and do they stay at home? No. So what, even if we collectively tuck in our tails and stay back on Earth, is that going to make the universe a better place? I don't think so."  
  
"I wasn't trying to say that we shouldn't be up here at all."  
  
"Well good," Bones interrupted. "Because if that was the case I'd have to take you off duty for temporary insanity. Being up here, that's your life. And you belong here. We belong here. My grandmother had a saying – _You can't learn how to ride if you're afraid to get on a horse_."  
  
Jim smiled against the skin of Bones' chest. "I'm sure she was the life of every party."  
  
"Oh, she was. Trust me. But what I'm trying to say is that we can sit back home and twiddle our thumbs for all we like, it's not going to prepare us any better for being up here, either. So yeah, we make mistakes. Sometimes because we're human, and sometimes just because nobody can always make the right choice. That's life. Running away from it won't help. And I think all the times when the fact that we're out here actually saved lives should weigh more heavily than anything else."  
  
Jim released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He knew that things would look differently if he managed to create a little distance to what had happened. Some distance, and a lot of sleep.  
  
"Thanks, Bones."  
  
"Any time. Now can we finally get some sleep?"  
  
Jim smiled and pressed a kiss against Bones' chest.  
  
"Yeah, we can."  
  
"Good, because I have work to do tomorrow morning. Some of us don't get to sit in a comfortable chair all day long."  
  
Jim laughed, tightening his arms around Bones as he shifted into a more comfortable position. And for the first time in a long time, Jim simply closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Epilogue**  
  
The alarm woke Jim up after what felt like far too little sleep. But it had been sleep, and over the past weeks it had become unusual for him to sleep long enough that he needed the alarm to wake up in the first place. Maybe things were finally on their way to getting better.  
  
"Computer, turn off alarm."  
  
The room fell blessedly silent, and Jim breathed a sigh or relief as he stretched out underneath the covers and tried to pinpoint why exactly today felt different than the past couple of weeks had. He couldn't tell, he only knew that something had changed. But even James T. Kirk was a creature of habit, and it was without conscious thought that he said his next words, the ones that had been his first words every morning upon waking up for the past months.  
  
"Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Leonard McCoy."  
  
There was movement on the bed behind him, and everything fell into place even before the computer had time to answer in its usual, pleasant way.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander McCoy's current location is D-Deck, quarters of Captain James T. Kirk."  
  
Jim sighed as Bones' arms tightened around him, his body solid and radiating warmth against his back.  
  
"'m right here, Jim." Bones said, his voice deep and his southern drawl heavy from sleep. A small shudder ran through him as Bones pressed a kiss against the knob of his spine at the juncture of back and neck. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Something warm settled in Jim's chest at those words. He brought up his hand to trap Bones' against his chest with a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to keep lying like this all day long, basking in this new level to their relationship. He wanted more time with Bones, a chance to better explore this before reality caught up with them again.  
  
But he had no choice.  
  
"I need to get to the bridge."  
  
In response, Bones' arms tightened even more around him.  
  
"It's the middle of gamma shift. Go back to sleep."  
  
Jim shook his head. "I told Spock I'd get some rest and be back in six hours."  
  
The mattress shifted as Bones rose up to take a look at the chrono on the wall.  
  
"And you got four hours instead of six. What? Are you trying to run yourself to the ground?"  
  
"I need…"  
  
"You need sleep. Period. Don't make me force you get some."  
  
Jim sighed, but truth be told he wasn't going to struggle real hard against some additional time in bed with Bones. The other man nudged Jim until he turned around and pressed against Bones' chest, face buried against Bones' neck. When Bones spoke again, Jim felt his voice as a soothing vibration against his skin.  
  
"Computer, send a notification to Commander Spock that Captain Kirk is going to come back on duty at the beginning of alpha shift and not a minute earlier, just like it says in the damn duty roster."  
  
"Inappropriate language detected." The computer chimed pleasantly. "Erase before sending?"  
  
"No, leave it just as it is."  
  
The computer chimed again in confirmation, and Jim couldn't help but chuckle against the skin of Bones' neck.  
  
"Spock's going to love that."  
  
"Ah, he'll survive."  
  
Jim felt a gentle nudge against his shoulder, and as he raised his head from it's comfortable resting place against the warm skin of Bones' shoulder, Bones' lips pressed against his. It was a tender kiss, just a soft press of lips against lips, and Jim melted into it with a lazy hum of appreciation.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Jim. I'll be here when you wake up."  
  
"I know."  
  
And really, that was all Jim needed.


End file.
